Hello
The moments of arresting beauty that life presents to us are useless - when the golden autumn sun strikes a building at a particular time of day; when a smiling mother totes her two tow-headed daughters through the grimy streets after a light rainfall, the three of them oblivious to the colorless world that surrounds them; when the snow transforms the night into an eldritch moony landscape that we might dream heaven to be like; all of these quiet, private, experiences serve only to demonstrate how little regard good things have for us, the abject and rotten.
I am a villain. I act how I know I ought to act, I act responsibly when people around me are upset - I let them know I understand, that I hope they feel better, that they are good people and that they are loved. It is a lie. The truth is that I couldn't be more delighted about the miseries of those I know. And the irresistible conclusion reaches me that, for lack of a better phrase, I am bad. I am adverse to happiness - rooms filled with happy people quite literally cause me to panic, become nauseated, then dizzy, and often even to faint. On the other hand I take a great satisfaction in crowds of miserable people - funerals, protests, wakes, etc - I feel at ease and quite comfortable when those around me are in a great state of torment. Again, I am led to believe that I am bad.
In relationships I do all I can to resist the urge to train and control. I need for people to never feel good unless I've made them feel good. When a girl (I am a man) feels happy and I am not the cause, I begin to panic. I fear that as she begins to feel better, she'll see how I really am, and she'll see that the only reason she's been miserable is because I've been keeping her there, at which point she'll leave. Yes, I have some issues.
Back story: I was an only child and am presently 28 years old. I have never met my father because he disappeared when I was still an infant and nobody has since been able to find him. My mother was (is?) an alcoholic, and we haven't seen one another more than once in the past ten years. From the age of 10 my mother was rarely home, gone between the hours of 7am and 11pm daily - I learned cooked for myself, to entertain myself, and so on. My mother wasn't really a bad person. It's just that she had her own problems with depression, alcoholism, and loneliness. She simply couldn't handle me, and, while I do not hold this against her, I find myself completely disgusted by her. It's odd.
At some point, I think I was 12 or 13, I discovered that happy people made me miserable, and miserable people made me happy. I seemed to like it when other kids picked on me because, when facing a couple of bullies, I felt a calmness pass over me - I found that I was made to feel quite comfortable by their irrational fears and anger. Again, odd. I learned very quickly, however, that if I were to have any friends, I would have to put on an act and behave the right way. And so I have... until recently that is.
Recently the act has been wearing thin. I am prone to overwhelming fits of rage followed by debilitating anguish, and I feel quite removed from everything. I have developed a twich, and for the past four years it has been increasingly common for me to burst into uncontrollable tears without apparent reason. I cry nearly everytime I think of someone I love, and I think of almost nothing else. I have broken nearly every bond and lost all credibility with those I know so that even when I have myself under control I find that nobody trusts me anymore.
Nothing, absolutely nothing, brings me pleasure. I am completely passionless - and lately I cannot seem to distract myself. I hate television, film sucks, I can't read, can't sleep, can't eat, can't program any more, cannot think about anything.
The best I can hope for is a sense of calm - and as I look back that has always been the case. I have never known happiness to be anything but disgusting. I cannot be in relationships for this reason. When a girl tells me she loves me I feel a great need to punish her for it, and so, despite my best efforts to resist the hatred I feel for her loving me, I do eventually hurt her and make her hate that she ever loved me. Nothing makes me feel better (i.e. worse) than knowing that I have caused another person to hate herself as much as I hate myself. It occurred to me the other day that when I am feeling the worst (i.e. the best) I want everyone to be miserable, and I want everyone to want everyone to be miserable, and I want everyone to want everyone to want everyone to be miserable. It is disgusting, and I hate the calming effect this thought has on me.
Needless to say, lately I have been keeping myself away from girls. (I use the world 'girls' because I do not think I have ever dated a woman - women seem to be too smart to fall in love with me - they sense that I am not to be trusted - and I am not. I have never been in a relationship with anyone older than 21. Its stupid.)
All of this sets me off a bit. I cannot seem to hold down a job - I cannot seem to sit still - and I've frequently just gotten up and left whatever I've been doing. Earlier this summer I left my job, packed a back, and started walking. I ended up walking 200 miles. I camped by the side of the road, in ditches, and open pastures. I met many homeless people and train-hopping kids before I eventually returned to my hometown. I fall in love again and again with every third girl I meet, but I know I cannot really love any of them because I am only capable of causing misery. And that is really what this post is about. I don't want to hurt people, but hurting people is the only thing that calms me down and makes me feel at ease. Without the opportunity to control and dominate another person, or the people around me, I lose complete control of myself, and end up in a somewhat psychotic state. It is sick. I hate it - and it makes me miserable (yes, I did try killing myself once, about 6 years ago). I try so very hard to keep myself from being vicious, but each year a bit of my self-control is lost. I love you miserable people - I'm sorry. | |
My Dad is like you, as soon as I offer him a chance, he sabotages it with his horrible nasty comments, he has destroyed his life with his domineering miserable attitude, he lives alone, none of his children speak to him, he won't be invited to my wedding next year, he will never meet his grandchildren when I have them, I won't even attend his funeral, because he is a bitter, disgusting, malicious prick and I don't want his poison affecting my life anymore.
You'll end up like him, in a pit of depression about all the women he drove away, all the people he hurts, the fact no-one likes him because they don't trust him, work collaegues hate him and make sure he knows it, his family cannot stand him.
I advise you to get proffessional help, you sound like a sociopath and it isn't a good way to be, you oly get one chance in life, don't waste it being alone and bitter, spend it trying to be the best you can be.
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