I can’t remember the last time I’ve been so down on myself for such a long period of time. Even when I was bullied I was happier than this. They say that love changes you, but I never believed it to be true until it actually happened. My life is headed in the right track but I’ve reached the point where none of that matters any more. Nothing is really important to me any more, other than breaking free of this depression, finding someone that will make me happy. I hate myself for having allowed myself to reach this point. I’m such a fucking mess of a person, and now all my friends think I’m crazy and that I need professional help. I don’t need professional help, I need someone to like me. Is that too much to ask? Is it too much to ask, for somebody beautiful, kind and funny to like me, maybe even love me, for who I am? What exactly is it about me that makes me so repulsive to date? I mean, I could understand now, since I’m so fucking sensitive, but before, what was the problem? I guess I’m just one of those people that are destined to live by themselves forever, spending my days in a fucking laboratory, looking at blobs under a microscope and sticking needles into lab rats. I put so much effort into other people’s lives. I always help them with their problems, talk to them, text them first, give them compliments, and what do I get in return? Shit all is what. If I didn’t make the effort my social life would be completely non existent. And even when I am working in the medical field, researching medicine, to once again make a change in somebody’s life, I guarantee that not a single person will be there to try to make a change in mine. I don’t know what the solution is; maybe I just have to accept the fact that I will never find love and try to train to push my depression into the back of my mind so that I can regain my focus. I sure as hell am not going to date someone just for the sake of dating, because sure, people have liked me, but I’ll admit that I am highly selective and have never really liked any of them back. I guess the problem is as much on my end as it is on theirs, which always makes you feel fucking fantastic about yourself. About a week ago, when I had my weird alcohol allergic reaction thing, and my hands and head when numb and tingly and I had an emotional breakdown, the next day, not a single person that was there came to me and asked if I was okay. What if I was so upset during the night that I ended up hurting myself? Does nobody really care about me at all? Only one person even talked to me the day afterwards and all they told me was that there’s something fundamentally wrong with me and I need help. I just don’t understand. I have been thinking about just giving up on people altogether, since they are the source of all my trouble, but then I realize, that that’s not going to help me in the slightest, because people are what I need to make myself happy again. I have actually been considering seeing a doctor about my problems, but all they are going to do is give me a quick fix, and not a solution. I don’t want to pop a pill that makes me happy. I want to BE happy. For other people it seems so easy, to find relationships, have close friends, and live happy lives. Why is it so hard for me?
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Book / Fantasy
Book / Science Fiction
Book / Science Fiction
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