Hi.
Without going into too much detail, I’ve been through a lot over the past 10 years that I probably haven’t been able to come to terms with.
I’m constantly trying to become a better person—someone I can be proud of, someone I can look at in the mirror without feeling ashamed of myself. I feel miserable in a way, but even I don’t understand why. Maybe it’s because I can’t seem to find my place in today’s society, but it’s eating me up from the inside, I tell myself. Damn it, i’m an adult, I’m over 25, and i still haven’t accomplished anything? Am i useless at everything? I fail at everything i try, and i struggle, really struggle, to make a living, to trust others, and also to love myself.
I’m not going to give a suicidal speech, to be honest, I don’t have the courage for that anyway. And it’s not part of my principles (my outlook on life). But I can still see that there’s something wrong with my behavior. I’m afraid of people; there are days when I eat until I feel sick, and others when I sleep all day. If I find a job, I stick with it for a while but then lose interest, and if I force myself to keep going, sooner or later I get comments about my behavior. (Don’t talk much, eat alone during breaks, avoid conversations, work slowly, etc.)
I just can’t do it, no, really, i just can’t. Ever since I was little, I’ve always been on the sidelines. There’s a bond of trust with people that’s gradually been broken through my experiences.
To be honest, for example, I couldn’t talk about this directly with people face-to-face. I’d feel uncomfortable, exposed, as if I were laid bare. I’d feel even more ridiculous.
I’m writing this to you, but I don’t even think things would get better, since I’ve been like this since I was little, and it’s gotten worse over time.
What’s strange is that when i get interested in something, like writing, for example, i put a tremendous amount of pressure on myself. Like: “You’re old now; if you want to accomplish something, do it right! Don’t waste any time!”
If I play video games for even just an hour, for example, I immediately start feeling this constant sense of guilt. “Well then? Weren’t you supposed to be writing? Aren’t you doing it anymore? Don’t you have confidence in yourself? Don’t you feel like it? Just do it.”
Except that this guilt is excessive; this pressure makes me do less than usual. I put enormous pressure on myself, even for ridiculous things.