I don't have anything to live for
I'm finally having to accept that I will never achieve any of my important goals by the time I die, that I will never be able to pay my keep, that I will die all alone and friendless, that I will be dirt-poor until I die, that I have never really benefited anyone, and that I'll never be with anyone who truly loves me and whom I truly love in return.
I don't mean that I'm about to commit suicide. I have tried that several times in my teens, and never succeeded. And I have sworn to outlive my cat Hannah so that I will always be with her and she will always be taken good care of by me.
But it's hard knowing your entire life has been a waste and that it will never be anything else, however long you live. I feel like G-d hates me and has hated me all along. I have prayed and prayed and prayed and done ritual after ritual of Ceremonial Magick for a good marriage, getting my writing commercially published, being accepted by the people I respect as one of their own, and all the rest of it. No answer. Everyone supposedly has a guardian angel. Well, mine either died when I was born or joined the enemy shortly thereafter. There is no point or purpose to my life. If not for my cat, I'd make a quick exit.
Such is the sum and substance of my life. People tell me casually, "Just get over it! You know you can do it!" Well, my reasons for despair are situational, not something solely psychological or neurological. So sorry -- no can do. And yes, I do know the 23-step prayer:
Though I walk in the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil.
For I am the meanest SOB in the valley.
That doesn't work, either.
I don't mean that I'm about to commit suicide. I have tried that several times in my teens, and never succeeded. And I have sworn to outlive my cat Hannah so that I will always be with her and she will always be taken good care of by me.
But it's hard knowing your entire life has been a waste and that it will never be anything else, however long you live. I feel like G-d hates me and has hated me all along. I have prayed and prayed and prayed and done ritual after ritual of Ceremonial Magick for a good marriage, getting my writing commercially published, being accepted by the people I respect as one of their own, and all the rest of it. No answer. Everyone supposedly has a guardian angel. Well, mine either died when I was born or joined the enemy shortly thereafter. There is no point or purpose to my life. If not for my cat, I'd make a quick exit.
Such is the sum and substance of my life. People tell me casually, "Just get over it! You know you can do it!" Well, my reasons for despair are situational, not something solely psychological or neurological. So sorry -- no can do. And yes, I do know the 23-step prayer:
Though I walk in the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil.
For I am the meanest SOB in the valley.
That doesn't work, either.