Nobody wanting anything to do with me predates my behavior by a LOT. Social isolation has been a mainstay of my life, never by choice, and I can remember feeling ignored by everyone around me as far back as my early childhood. One of the first things I ever learned is that something is wrong with me, and people do not like it. They usually don't lash out or torment me, they just uncomfortably look away and pretend I'm not in the room with them. Something about this is torture. It terrifies me, and I start to talk to myself:
"Is there something wrong with me?" Of course there is.
"Can I maybe do something to fix it?" Obviously you can't.
"Is there anything I can do?" Sort of.
You can die, or you can do things that look like death from the outside. You can clumsily extricate yourself from people's lives and then from public view, you can relocate yourself to somewhere very far away without telling anyone. You can stop eating and sleep as much as possible. You can turn your arms into funny ribbons with a razor. But the only actual choice you can make is between dying and continuing to talk to myself:
"Maybe they miss me…" Of course they don't.
"Maybe they regret ignoring me…" Obviously they wouldn't.
"Maybe people are better off without me…" Sort of. You aren't so significant that your presence or lack thereof has any measurable impact on them. Which is a problem we CAN solve, in a way!
Giving people something to be mad about is sadly genuinely effective at getting them to acknowledge you, which is a dangerous thing to have learned as a neurotic child who only wants to be acknowledged at all. I've never been able to fully kick the habit of being disruptive and combative in any setting where I feel unseen. It's led to me being hit, chased, cornered, put me in very dangerous situations, but its kept me out of the truer gutter of not even being "there" enough to be hated.
I have no friends. There are people who tolerate me for bits at a time but the fact I will become "too much" after not very long is something of a local inside joke. Or it was, when I still bothered to go outside. These are the people who like me the MOST out of everyone I know. There are people irl who are so irritated by me they have actively tried to get me to ctb, and I can't even blame them. I am horrible to be around.
This all really bothers me. I see people having nice pleasant conversations and big groups of friends and I just wonder why that could never have been me. Was I that bad even when I was a tiny little kid? Either way things feel basically ruined now, I've been this person for so long and any time I try to stop it just comes creeping back into me. "I hate these people; how dare they exclude me, sight unseen?!" It seems bad somehow to feel that way but I do. I started getting really angry all the time, so about two years ago I stopped going outside. I can count how many times I've seen people I actually like in that two years on one hand, and they usually didn't like me.
Which brings me to now. I'm in my 30s and I don't think I can live like this anymore. I've had a couple methods stowed for a while now and they're starting to appeal to me in a much realer way than before. The little fake world I made where I can be mean for attention grew 3D and swallowed me up. My fault partly, I was trying to be funny. I hate being alone all the time. I wish there was someone like me. ANYONE like me who wanted me around. But there is not. There never was and there never will be.
"Is there something wrong with me?" Of course there is.
"Can I maybe do something to fix it?" Obviously you can't.
"Is there anything I can do?" Sort of.
You can die, or you can do things that look like death from the outside. You can clumsily extricate yourself from people's lives and then from public view, you can relocate yourself to somewhere very far away without telling anyone. You can stop eating and sleep as much as possible. You can turn your arms into funny ribbons with a razor. But the only actual choice you can make is between dying and continuing to talk to myself:
"Maybe they miss me…" Of course they don't.
"Maybe they regret ignoring me…" Obviously they wouldn't.
"Maybe people are better off without me…" Sort of. You aren't so significant that your presence or lack thereof has any measurable impact on them. Which is a problem we CAN solve, in a way!
Giving people something to be mad about is sadly genuinely effective at getting them to acknowledge you, which is a dangerous thing to have learned as a neurotic child who only wants to be acknowledged at all. I've never been able to fully kick the habit of being disruptive and combative in any setting where I feel unseen. It's led to me being hit, chased, cornered, put me in very dangerous situations, but its kept me out of the truer gutter of not even being "there" enough to be hated.
I have no friends. There are people who tolerate me for bits at a time but the fact I will become "too much" after not very long is something of a local inside joke. Or it was, when I still bothered to go outside. These are the people who like me the MOST out of everyone I know. There are people irl who are so irritated by me they have actively tried to get me to ctb, and I can't even blame them. I am horrible to be around.
This all really bothers me. I see people having nice pleasant conversations and big groups of friends and I just wonder why that could never have been me. Was I that bad even when I was a tiny little kid? Either way things feel basically ruined now, I've been this person for so long and any time I try to stop it just comes creeping back into me. "I hate these people; how dare they exclude me, sight unseen?!" It seems bad somehow to feel that way but I do. I started getting really angry all the time, so about two years ago I stopped going outside. I can count how many times I've seen people I actually like in that two years on one hand, and they usually didn't like me.
Which brings me to now. I'm in my 30s and I don't think I can live like this anymore. I've had a couple methods stowed for a while now and they're starting to appeal to me in a much realer way than before. The little fake world I made where I can be mean for attention grew 3D and swallowed me up. My fault partly, I was trying to be funny. I hate being alone all the time. I wish there was someone like me. ANYONE like me who wanted me around. But there is not. There never was and there never will be.
