truth from existential crisis by November

everything is my fault. It all started when I was in middle school. I hated everyone and everything including myself. I don't know what was wrong with me but I know it was my fault. Due to this cognitive behavior I thought that all of my problems was because of someone else or something else. I thought that everything was horrible before I even knew what horrible actually meant. So here I am, about 3 years later. Now I just wallow in my regrets of the past. I wish I took more into consideration on how powerful on choice and action can be. I can't blame anyone but myself for acting that way.

I only feel shameful for existing. My family just punishes me for my tiny flaws and mistakes which makes me feel more and more hopeless and nihilistic as days pass by. More and more I also feel more pointless and a burden to everyone around me. Right now I am sitting in isolation, thinking about what a world would be like if I was simply gone. My mother would be happier without me. Everyone would not have to take care of me or worry about me ruining anyone's life. It's something I have come to terms with a while ago. How I will continue to make stupid choices or mistakes that will continue to ruin my life and the people around me. My incompetence as a simple human being on this planet only causes destruction to everything around me. I only disturb the system and knock it out of bounds. Even though I attempt to heal, nothing seems to change for the better. My support seems to just go straight through or make things worse. I always wish to be more but it is the truth. My parents are downstairs enjoying themselves without me and they aren't even considering me or what I am doing right now. My mom seems to only be laughing and smiling when I am not around. As soon as I walk into the room, she gets serious and any sense of happiness dies. She only finds pleasure in the temporary partners she finds; not in her own children. She is too scared to have an actual conversation with her children and instead talks with this 40 year old stranger living with her. It hurts to be left out like I am the stranger. but I guess I might as well be. When I try to tell her she has something wrong, she immediately thinks I am fighting back and she gets more angrier. Through this I learned there is no point in conversing with her about anything. There is no point in resisting. They took everything from me so the only thing I can do is think of how much of a mistake I am. They don't miss me nor feel me right now.

I am so tired of being scared of everything. I am so lonely but my brain is too scared to talk to people. When I need help, my mind creates a boundary that avoids me from doing the right thing. Yet I am scared of doing wrong. I am scared of judgement so my socialization is very minimal. My conversations are short and meaningless but I want them to have meaning. My mind lays restrictions on myself and I cannot free myself.

Therapy doesn't seem to help. I barely have the motivation to participate and cooperate with this so-called “help.” They seem to only be making my problem worse and this makes me feel even more helpless. I need drugs

As I sit here and think just how bleak and forlorn my existence really is, I still question myself and my remarks. Maybe this is just another foolish mistake I made. But when I realize it, it will most likely already be too late. There's no point in resisting anymore. Only silence and darkness consumes me as I wallow in the same tragedy that is my existence.

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