Let's Talk About Ending Things

 7.09.20
I really don't know what I can do anymore. 
The sickness that I feel is often overwhelming. 
I'm exhausted all the time, both physically and psychologically. 
I actually brought myself together last week enough to head to the doctor to get checked out. 
For the last few weeks I've been feeling like I'm going to collapse; I'm always tired, I don't feel like doing much and my body aches. I want to push on, but at the same time, I just want to give up. 

Things at work are a complete joke. The place is a dead-end job. There is no way they will ever promote me, despite my skills and abilities. I think they won't promote me because of the way I look. I don't have a professional look about me, but I am smart, cunning and adept at making decisions. I think they actually fear smart people to some degree. The same could be said about my last job. Ah, personal shopping. What a concept. But back to the current complaint. I've come to the realisation that it doesn't matter what I do there, I will never succeed. I'm looking for new work in the same field so I can tap into the skills that I've acquired at my current job. I like that I work 8 minutes away from my job and can walk home if I need to, that's really the only plus of the job. I feel like I'm just there to be used and laughed at. It's not a good feeling.
I really don't know what I'm going to do about it. Stay and get treated like shit or go somewhere else where I will probably be treated like shit but it will be further from my house. Is it worth rolling the dice? I need to think things over and not make any rash decisions. I've been at the job for nearly two years now.

...

I don't know why I'm here anymore. A few months ago, I was in a good place in my life. I was ready to face the world. I was afraid of dying and now I want nothing more than to just die. I feel like all I do is take up space, waste everyone's time-oh, wait, I would waste people's time if they invited me over or out. I know I like to be home, but once in a while I'd like to be asked to go out. I want to be something special to someone. I'm not. Being alive hurts. It's hurt for the longest time and I don't know how much longer I will be expected to live like this. My youth is gone. I'm a full-grown adult. The problems I had as a child haven't gone away. The wounds that were inflicted in childhood haven't healed. 

I am completely worthless. I thought that by now I'd have things figured out. I thought that I'd have attained something more than I have. I look in the mirror and see a complete failure. (When I can look in the mirror that is.) The pain these days is unbearable. I've tried to vomit it out of me. I've tried to cut it out of me. I've tried to cry it out of me. It's not enough. Nothing that I do is enough. I should have known better. I thought that one day I would be enough for someone. I thought that there would be someone who loved me for me despite everything. At 29 I've come to the conclusion that that was all just a fairy tale. It was something fake to believe in. It was more false hope. I was born on sinking sand and now I can no longer fight it.

And when I die, what will I leave behind? A shoebox of meaningless trash probably. Nothing I have is worth any great importance, just like my life. People will probably laugh at it. And why not? They've laughed and made fun of me my entire existence.