Finally it will be over...

I'm writing this, not as a cry for help (I did that years ago and no one listened then) No no... I do this as a final footnote to my misery. I don't want anybody's pity (I can't use that anymore) and I don't need no one's high rhetoric on life. This little entry of a life of Mr Nobody, who could of been Mr Somebody, is my only claim to having existed, my only footprint in this realm we call life. By the time anybody reads this I'll probably be floating head down in my bathtub, or my head high in the clouds in another plane of reality. But here goes.. anyway... I feel I owe it to myself or this body I am about to destroy, at least a little explanation to how I became so disenchanted with life and why my soul became so darkened of late.

It all started when I was a small boy... A long time ago, well not too long ago... in 1978, I was a creative and articulate little 6yo boy. Shy yes, but full of wonderment. I even had high hopes then. Dreaming of a bright future, friends a social structure that would complement my wild ambitions into adulthood. Instead I was beat at an early age and learnt very quickly the high price of free thinking. My father never condoned my inquisitive nature or supported me, and despite being a talented drawer, I was beat senseless whenever I strayed from my homework. Instead I learnt to fear discipline, to loathe myself for my uniqueness. Well that came much later. First I was just scared, but soon that fear turned into paranoia. It was hard for me to make friends with my, on edge nerves. And so I was seen as an odd kid, picked on from an early age. My lifestyle was also rather plain, never given any pocket money I used to starve myself at school, having been given appalling food to sustain me throughout the day. What a tightarse my dad was, even to this day.

We never did own a house of our own (parents being completely devoid of ambition) and wandered like gypsies in the early days, seeking refuge wherever we could. In my early teens I discovered the beauty of literature, and began writing creatively as an outlet to my frustrations, my pain, and disappointments. It wasn't always bad, I remember having friends in my early teens and things looked up when we finally began renting a sizable home (sizable to my fathers standards). I was still very afraid of people in general, and being a smaller than average, scrawny kid, it was inevitable that I would suffer abuse from the older kids.

By the time I was in my late teens, my self esteem was almost non existant, completely in tatters. All I had known in life was ridicule from both parents and teachers, but by far the most received and hurtful was by peers. This didn't end there, I certainly had no self worth by age 20 but I persevered and tried to put all my schooling years behind me. But little did I know I was in for another decade of heartache...

I was 21 when I landed my first real job, it was very difficult, maintaining appearances. Here I was, still wet behind the ears and working in a reputable company as an engineer. I couldn't believe it. I thought this would be a new start on life, a new chapter in a novel full of past sorrows. At first I was eager to realise my full potential, but soon after some tough judgement from my peers I felt I was back to square one. My credibility sank quickly and in a matter of short years I became the forgettable, and least respected lonely freak. I found it very hard to gain the confidence of anyone, let alone other women. I was always the dotting idiot that didnt know where to look when being looked at (another trait of having a complete inferiority complex). I dreaded presentations and meetings. I always suspected ppl snickering behind my back. Even younger peers mocked me secretly behind my back.

At 24 I began to get fed up with caring, I didn't care if I was abnormal, I didnt care that I hadn't ever dated, or that I was a so called loser! I didn't care that I had no friends and spent huge amounts of my disposable income at whorehouses. Initially as an attempt to have sex with women and find out what all the fuss was about, but eventually I found myself returning as I could never really ever hope to sleep with a woman on my own terms. Yes I paid for sex for years and began loathing myself even more. What was wrong with me!! Was i too ugly, too short? What was it about me that girls found uninteresting. Finally at 26 it dawned on me. I just had no balls. No oomph, no get up and go. I was a coward, a manboy. A complete waste of space, a deer caught in the headlights nobody. I had officially grown into a grotesque shell of myself. A weak minded and absolute souless nerd, that masturbates more times than he breathes. A man with no future, no spirit, no ambition and no hope of escaping his misery and futile life, still living at home. And the worst part of it all, was that I accepted it, I had no fight left in me. I was ok with living my life like a fool and a doorstop for the world. It was over for me I was beaten.

Everyday after that realisation I looked at the world pass me by. At my pitiful existence, my jadedness, and general apathy to living. I stopped caring about the next beautiful woman that sat next to me on a bus on my way to work. What was the point? I lacked the momentum and social prowess to get a simple conversation going. I was a short 178cm. And couldnt ever hope to catch the attention of a tall and sultry girl, even on my best day (i tried working out too for a while and ended weighing 83kg of mostly muscle - I think this compounded my misery since it made no difference to the ladies or my confidence). After my long history of quitting it was only fitting that I would give up on life in general. I stopped eating, stopped going to work early and generally shun people from my life, even the few closest to me. I was edgy, snappy and always negative.

At 28 I stopped sleeping with hookers and stopped masturbating, I was over most things, I got into self mutilation and starvation. I lost some weight but not enough. Jesus Christ! how my mind twisted for the next 2 years until my current age of 30. I was obsessed with death, I wanted to die in so many ways, I cracked, I lived in a small room away from everyone and sometimes never fed for days, I lost my job, my family and soon my mind. But none of those things hurts me a great deal. I wanted more pain, I wanted to experience exquisite pain, but enough to make me pass out and not die. I wanted to keep hurting, but I didnt want to give my ass the satisfaction of death, the release of death, no! i wanted my ass to suffer more. I wanted to break my soul and bury myself into a torturous rapture. I actually began to wish that I could die many times and in some ways I did.

Ah well, all good things must come to an end. The only difference is that my end is just around the corner. Take comfort that you do not know me, I only write this because I know i'm not a special case. I could be somebody's uncle, or father, somebody's brother or son. Help them if you see them sad and depressed, shrugging off someone else's problems doesn't always work out in the end.

Please don't hurt yourself...there are people who care. At 30 you still have 30 years ahead at least! Nobody is really happy no matter how beautiful or rich! They only do a good job hiding their pain, we are all the same, just flesh and blood...believe in yourself, that is all.

I hope you read this and you're still with us. You've described all the bad things in your life, certainly there have been good times. I have a friend who was very lonely and unsuccessful with the ladies for 40 years. He lacked confidence, and was very quiet. A few years ago he met and married a very attractive lady about 10 years younger than he. He is so happy now, I'm sure he doesn't look back on those early years. Even when he wasn't having any luck with the ladies, he enjoyed the rest of his life. He was active and did what he wanted. Had nice cars, played tennis and golf, and was active in his church. You can do it! Focus on what is or can be good about yourself first. Hang around with lots of people (maybe your workamates are all jerks!) don't push for dates, but when the time is right, let her know your interested.

You say you don't have any balls? You've done some things my friend I wouldn't have the guts to do. Now use some of that to pull yourself off the floor. You may have hit bottom, everything is up from here. Now please call my friends at 1300 651 251 or send me a personal message (see link at top). Please?