Hojag
Member
- Jan 11, 2025
- 25
If family and girlfriend count, then yes. I'm often told that I have lucky bonds I should be grate for - and I agree, and I'm glad.
But there's this thing that hurts me since I was little. It's common to heard suicidal/depressed people saying "everybody hates me" (and I get the feeling).
In my case, though, there is something about me I just can't understand. I only know people won't stay too long; rather, they'll ignore my existence on purpouse. Yeah, it sounds pretty much classic paranoia, but believe me: I only had one class where kids were nice to me. It was on kindergarden, when I was 4 years old.
Every year until 12th grade was just the same. I found myself alone, fond of loneliness. Of course, I became more and more gloom as I grew, giving space for my misanthropic side to bloom. I lack of social skills, as if I was a broken engine about to toss screws when must interact.
Then, I catch myself wondering: where did I go wrong? Why am I unable to hang out or have a "normal" life, if this seems to be the basic of what people call "friendship"? After all the stabs I got in my back, I can't see "friendship" as a shallow concept.
If people would hate me for who I am now, I could understand; I acknowledge I write long texts and give details nobody asked for (not to memtion my ⅔ Nihilistic point of view + a lot of pessimism). But as a kid? Even as a pre-teen, when I gave my all to those who deserved nothing?
That was a huge rant. Sorry, I guess that, in the end, the sort answer is:
I have "friends", but they only still friends because haven't been exposed enough to my dark mood; only because I keep the dialogue brief and wear a happy mask.
But there's this thing that hurts me since I was little. It's common to heard suicidal/depressed people saying "everybody hates me" (and I get the feeling).
In my case, though, there is something about me I just can't understand. I only know people won't stay too long; rather, they'll ignore my existence on purpouse. Yeah, it sounds pretty much classic paranoia, but believe me: I only had one class where kids were nice to me. It was on kindergarden, when I was 4 years old.
Every year until 12th grade was just the same. I found myself alone, fond of loneliness. Of course, I became more and more gloom as I grew, giving space for my misanthropic side to bloom. I lack of social skills, as if I was a broken engine about to toss screws when must interact.
Then, I catch myself wondering: where did I go wrong? Why am I unable to hang out or have a "normal" life, if this seems to be the basic of what people call "friendship"? After all the stabs I got in my back, I can't see "friendship" as a shallow concept.
If people would hate me for who I am now, I could understand; I acknowledge I write long texts and give details nobody asked for (not to memtion my ⅔ Nihilistic point of view + a lot of pessimism). But as a kid? Even as a pre-teen, when I gave my all to those who deserved nothing?
That was a huge rant. Sorry, I guess that, in the end, the sort answer is:
I have "friends", but they only still friends because haven't been exposed enough to my dark mood; only because I keep the dialogue brief and wear a happy mask.
One of them lives near me, and the other two live in a different state. They are aware of things that happen in my life, as well as my issues and diagnoses. Sometimes those two come to our state and we have a few days/nights out, or have a holiday somewhere. I'm quite lucky, and yet... I'm here.
On the outside, I'm a well-liked person (I think?) who has quite a few connections here and there. But I suppose it doesn't mean anything at all.
