In Which I Am a Self-obsessed, Narcissistic Jerk Who Eats the Scraps of Those I Deride or: 2016 Needs to Be the Year It Gets Better. It Just Needs to Be.

by natprance

In 2015, I was self-obsessed. I was fixated on my own misery, unhappiness, and chronic failure. And until the last few months of the year, my efforts were focused on resolving that, whether that was through attempting to communicate more openly and honestly, attempting to invest in pursuits that I felt would be more fulfilling, or crying over the phone as robots and cubicle workers with bored voices seemed to push me back and forth until I resigned.

If 2014 was the year I was knocked from my apathetic pedestal, 2015 was the year that my efforts to actually improve my life were met with rejection, bigotry, intolerance, and unavoidable failure. 2014 ended for me on a catastrophic note. A two and a half year long relationship was ended, my academic career was sent off course yet again, and I tried to take my own life several times. 2015 seemed to me a year of new beginnings; it started with a new, fresh relationship, several new career opportunities, and a generally more positive outlook on life. Over the course of the year, my optimism has been slowly eroded by every minimal effort I have taken being met with staunch opposition that I frankly cannot argue with.

At 24, I have no real skills beyond writing, and even then, I’m not published or focused enough to turn it into a career. I’ve been shown that because of my complete lack of understanding of basic finances or responsibility, I cannot be trusted with menial labour in a professional or personal setting. My brazen, aggressive, confrontational manner of conversation might seem charming or admirable to those of you that know me, but to the majority of people I have met this year, it’s become apparent that it is unpleasant, immature, and a massively undesirable trait.

Medication has proven useless for me. Therapy would be great if I could trust myself enough to follow through with it. The bulk of my days are spent hiding in my room watching television and playing video games. On the rare days that I manage to sit down and pound out some creative writing longer than a few hundred words, it all amounts to narcissistic tripe like this.

So what do I do in 2016? Well, in February, I am meeting with social workers and therapists to figure out concrete plans for the rest of my life. In all honesty, that will likely involve a low-responsibility part-time job that provides me with enough money to live off of. I’ve dismissed any aspirations I have formerly had about starting a family or a career as worthless. I am barely capable of providing for myself, and given the tiniest responsibilities to anything or anybody else, I collapse under the pressure. Maybe that will change with therapy, but for now, I can’t even think about that.

And beyond February… who knows? I don’t have a plan until December. The last time I tried to kill myself was impulsive and careless. I swallowed 79 pills in a fit of terror and immediately regretted it. It was an irrational action in response to a situation I couldn’t comprehend. It was horrible for everybody involved, and I’m sorry for that. But the past year has been a long fucking cavalcade of depression, alienation, and a complete loss of any self-worth I might have had. There have absolutely been good times, but I can’t count how many nights I have spent staring bleary-eyed at the TV before weeping into my pillow until I didn’t have the energy to stay awake anymore. This isn’t a good way to live, and right now, it’s the only way I know how. I don’t want to live like this.

If my life hasn’t shown any indication that it’s started to or might eventually turn around by next year, I honestly don’t know if I can say that I will feel it’s worth living.

I know this is grim and it’s an unpleasant topic, but it’s my life to do with or not do with as I please, and I feel that I at least owe you my honesty. It’s also important to note that I’m not giving up or committing to any plans or ideations just yet. This has been something I’ve been thinking about for a little over a year now, and I’m not taking it lightly. I’m making the efforts that I can to make positive changes, but I’m just so fucking tired. I’m not motivated. I’m not happy, and I haven’t been happy for a long time.

There is a German word, Weltschmerz, that means roughly ‘the disillusionment felt when comparing how the world is compared to how an individual desires the world to be.’ I have been experiencing that a lot lately, and it’s become far too personal for my liking. Seeing happy couples, parents with their children, successful business owners… All of these things are enough to make me depressed for a week. Am I supposed to avoid these things? Am I supposed to resent these people? Of course not. I’m truly happy for them, but I can’t be a part of a world where they exist.

I wrote this on an impulse and I regret it. It’s too heavy-handed, it’s too bleak, and it’s far, far, FAR too long-winded for my taste. But I want to be honest with you. This isn’t the way I wanted my life to turn out by this point. I’m not happy with this, and I’m not happy with the way this is headed. I know a lot of people will think “You’re still so young, there’s still so much time,” and I agree. But I don’t want to hit thirty and realize that I’ve gone too far to turn back. Honestly, right now I don’t even want to hit thirty. My life needs to change drastically and it needs to change now, and I have no idea how the fuck I’m supposed to do that. I am going into 2016 completely lost and confused.

So right now (5:30 AM, December 31st, 2015), I’m going to go back to watching the Simpsons, and I think I might write a story to follow this miserable blog post.

Here’s to a decent 2016. I’m really hoping it will be better. I’ll try to make some good jokes and thought-provoking posts for you no matter what. I’ll try to write a few stories for you to enjoy, too.

Thanks for reading.

Nat