I am a failure.
In the interest of keeping peoples friend pages clean, I will post this behind a cut.
It’s one thirty in the morning and I can't sleep because I have just realised I am no good at anything.
My entire life has been a series of events orchestrated by me to appear as though I have any clue as to what the fuck is going on.
All through school, from as early back as I can remember, I paid enough attention to retain enough knowledge to pass the tests. Usually, as soon as the test is over, I have found a way to forget it all. I can speak pretty well, I'm a good speller, and I'm fair at basic math in my head, but I couldn't tell you the components of a proper sentence, and I can't do anything beyond the first 9 weeks of Algebra 1. I never took the ACTs or the SAT or anything like that. I took no college prep classes. I have no fucking clue what calculus or trigonometry is about or used for. I barely passed geometry.
My time in the Air Force was probably the worst time ever. Everyone says "Oh how cool, you were in the military." Wrong. I screwed around and got kicked out, and I deserved it. Yeah, that bitch supervisor went about it wrong, but she had the right idea. I had no business being there. I was so excited about being there I didn’t give a shit about earning it. I was consistently late with my work, spent all my time on the internet and smoke breaks, and managed to become a meme for an entire hospital. I thought it was sympathy laughs, but looking back I was a complete fuckhead, and everyone was laughing at me. The only thing I did in my entire career with the air force was get demoted and fuck a married woman.
That's not the only job I sucked at. I left the industrial shop because I didn't like manual labor. I left best buy because I didn't like manual labor. I left the security company because there was no work, but also because I couldn't be bothered to do the job right even when there was work. I stopped delivering pizzas because I got tired of driving. I got fired from car sales because I couldn't sell. I quit Nextel because I hated phone sales and wanted to be a technician. I left Sprint because I hated being a technician. Now, I'm terrified of being a paramedic. I got into this because I wanted to help people. So I'm helping people now, but these aren’t the people I want to help. Now I realise these will always be the people that will need my help. Being a paramedic isn’t all car crashes and heart attacks. Most of the time it is still just bringing mawmaw to dialysis. I still haven't started my clinicals, and as time goes on it gets harder and harder to think about doing them. I'm afraid that this will end up being like every other job, where I've bullshitted my way to an air of competence, when I haven't done anything to deserve it, and don't really know what to do.
I'm also a bad friend. Chances are, if you’re a woman, and I haven't already had sex with you, in my spare time I think about it, or am trying to figure out how. Chances are equally good that if I *have* had sex with you, I'm trying to figure out how to do it again. A lot of my closest friendships with people have come around out of a one track attempt at getting in your pants.
That's all I seem to want to do, is find the next orgasm. Invariably, if there's me, alcohol, and a crowd, I will ask someone to show their titties. Then we all laugh, ha ha ha, but it's wrong. I know what people say, oh, it's not you, this really is fun. But I know I've made at least a few of you very uncomfortable, and for that I apologize. Still more of you will say, "C’mon Dave, you know me. We're cool! That stuff doesn't bother me." You don't have to say that anymore. Life is not an orgy waiting to happen, and I need to accept that.
Christ, I'm hardly any good at being a husband. I piss her off on at least a daily basis. I know that's our dynamic, to fight, shake it off five minutes later and move on. But that's wrong. She gets mad at me for legitimate reasons. The only times I’ve ever been mad at her is when she’s mad at me and I think she's wrong. Which she never is. No, that's not sarcasm. It is my fault. I didn't think it through, I didn't think of the consequences, I didn't consider X outcome, where X equals some blatantly obvious thing. I can't be bothered to clean any part of the house unless it's something I need under there or she bugs me to do it until she’s in tears because she doesn't want to nag me like my mom but she has to because I'm lazy. If she didn't pay the bills, they wouldn't get paid. Sure, I'll remember some every now and then and ask her about them, but she’s already paid it, and I would have been way too late anyways. I don't know when any of them are due, or where the payment gets sent to. My life would absolutely fall apart if Alicia was gone. I hope I haven't fucked up any attempt to show her mow much she means to me. Sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky, and other times I wonder how long she'll put up with my shit.
And my beautiful awesome daughter. I have caught myself recently treating her like a chore instead of a person. I hate that. When it's over and she’s asleep and I think about that, I hate myself. I always talk about how smart and pretty she is for her age, and how lucky I am to have such a good, happy baby that hardly cries for anything, and smiles almost all the time, and I'll tell all this to anyone in earshot. But then sometimes it's like, my shows almost over, ill get her in a few. Or, I wish she was asleep, so I could do whatever inconsequential thing it is I wanted to do. I hate myself for that. Serious hate. She deserves a much better father than me.
It seems the only thing I am good for is bringing home a paycheck so my wife can keep my world in order. And I'm not even any good at that, seeing as I left a job making more money with better benefits, to do something I thought would make me happy, leaving us (maybe) just enough money to get by. I don't know how much, I haven't balanced a checkbook. Ever. She does that.
I guess I should say a couple things:
1) This is not a pity party. I'm not looking for comments or sympathy or empathy, or pathy in general. If you should still decide to comment, I'm going to screen them. So, don't see the 0 comments and think omg no one loves him.
2) Invariably someone will say "omg suicide". No. Just... no. not a fucking chance. Been through that thought process once before in my life, and it was dumb and girly and emo, and honestly made things waaaaaay worse. I am too much a coward, and have too much unwarranted pride for that.
This has been an exercise in self improvement. I'm hoping that through this catharsis I will get my shit together and actually do something with my life. I know I left a lot of shit out, but I'm also hoping that by putting this out there that others will see it, and help me, and remind me, let it be a glaring sword of Damocles, that my life is wrong, but I can still make the future better.
Thank you for your time.
It’s one thirty in the morning and I can't sleep because I have just realised I am no good at anything.
My entire life has been a series of events orchestrated by me to appear as though I have any clue as to what the fuck is going on.
All through school, from as early back as I can remember, I paid enough attention to retain enough knowledge to pass the tests. Usually, as soon as the test is over, I have found a way to forget it all. I can speak pretty well, I'm a good speller, and I'm fair at basic math in my head, but I couldn't tell you the components of a proper sentence, and I can't do anything beyond the first 9 weeks of Algebra 1. I never took the ACTs or the SAT or anything like that. I took no college prep classes. I have no fucking clue what calculus or trigonometry is about or used for. I barely passed geometry.
My time in the Air Force was probably the worst time ever. Everyone says "Oh how cool, you were in the military." Wrong. I screwed around and got kicked out, and I deserved it. Yeah, that bitch supervisor went about it wrong, but she had the right idea. I had no business being there. I was so excited about being there I didn’t give a shit about earning it. I was consistently late with my work, spent all my time on the internet and smoke breaks, and managed to become a meme for an entire hospital. I thought it was sympathy laughs, but looking back I was a complete fuckhead, and everyone was laughing at me. The only thing I did in my entire career with the air force was get demoted and fuck a married woman.
That's not the only job I sucked at. I left the industrial shop because I didn't like manual labor. I left best buy because I didn't like manual labor. I left the security company because there was no work, but also because I couldn't be bothered to do the job right even when there was work. I stopped delivering pizzas because I got tired of driving. I got fired from car sales because I couldn't sell. I quit Nextel because I hated phone sales and wanted to be a technician. I left Sprint because I hated being a technician. Now, I'm terrified of being a paramedic. I got into this because I wanted to help people. So I'm helping people now, but these aren’t the people I want to help. Now I realise these will always be the people that will need my help. Being a paramedic isn’t all car crashes and heart attacks. Most of the time it is still just bringing mawmaw to dialysis. I still haven't started my clinicals, and as time goes on it gets harder and harder to think about doing them. I'm afraid that this will end up being like every other job, where I've bullshitted my way to an air of competence, when I haven't done anything to deserve it, and don't really know what to do.
I'm also a bad friend. Chances are, if you’re a woman, and I haven't already had sex with you, in my spare time I think about it, or am trying to figure out how. Chances are equally good that if I *have* had sex with you, I'm trying to figure out how to do it again. A lot of my closest friendships with people have come around out of a one track attempt at getting in your pants.
That's all I seem to want to do, is find the next orgasm. Invariably, if there's me, alcohol, and a crowd, I will ask someone to show their titties. Then we all laugh, ha ha ha, but it's wrong. I know what people say, oh, it's not you, this really is fun. But I know I've made at least a few of you very uncomfortable, and for that I apologize. Still more of you will say, "C’mon Dave, you know me. We're cool! That stuff doesn't bother me." You don't have to say that anymore. Life is not an orgy waiting to happen, and I need to accept that.
Christ, I'm hardly any good at being a husband. I piss her off on at least a daily basis. I know that's our dynamic, to fight, shake it off five minutes later and move on. But that's wrong. She gets mad at me for legitimate reasons. The only times I’ve ever been mad at her is when she’s mad at me and I think she's wrong. Which she never is. No, that's not sarcasm. It is my fault. I didn't think it through, I didn't think of the consequences, I didn't consider X outcome, where X equals some blatantly obvious thing. I can't be bothered to clean any part of the house unless it's something I need under there or she bugs me to do it until she’s in tears because she doesn't want to nag me like my mom but she has to because I'm lazy. If she didn't pay the bills, they wouldn't get paid. Sure, I'll remember some every now and then and ask her about them, but she’s already paid it, and I would have been way too late anyways. I don't know when any of them are due, or where the payment gets sent to. My life would absolutely fall apart if Alicia was gone. I hope I haven't fucked up any attempt to show her mow much she means to me. Sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky, and other times I wonder how long she'll put up with my shit.
And my beautiful awesome daughter. I have caught myself recently treating her like a chore instead of a person. I hate that. When it's over and she’s asleep and I think about that, I hate myself. I always talk about how smart and pretty she is for her age, and how lucky I am to have such a good, happy baby that hardly cries for anything, and smiles almost all the time, and I'll tell all this to anyone in earshot. But then sometimes it's like, my shows almost over, ill get her in a few. Or, I wish she was asleep, so I could do whatever inconsequential thing it is I wanted to do. I hate myself for that. Serious hate. She deserves a much better father than me.
It seems the only thing I am good for is bringing home a paycheck so my wife can keep my world in order. And I'm not even any good at that, seeing as I left a job making more money with better benefits, to do something I thought would make me happy, leaving us (maybe) just enough money to get by. I don't know how much, I haven't balanced a checkbook. Ever. She does that.
I guess I should say a couple things:
1) This is not a pity party. I'm not looking for comments or sympathy or empathy, or pathy in general. If you should still decide to comment, I'm going to screen them. So, don't see the 0 comments and think omg no one loves him.
2) Invariably someone will say "omg suicide". No. Just... no. not a fucking chance. Been through that thought process once before in my life, and it was dumb and girly and emo, and honestly made things waaaaaay worse. I am too much a coward, and have too much unwarranted pride for that.
This has been an exercise in self improvement. I'm hoping that through this catharsis I will get my shit together and actually do something with my life. I know I left a lot of shit out, but I'm also hoping that by putting this out there that others will see it, and help me, and remind me, let it be a glaring sword of Damocles, that my life is wrong, but I can still make the future better.
Thank you for your time.