I confess it’s difficult to fight against loneliness day after day. It changes your brain. You feel quiet desperation. Before the pandemic, you’d look at people in the grocery store, hoping to start a conversation with anyone, without looking like you’re unstable or imposing. You begin to wonder if this is how your life was supposed to be. You regret ever telling anyone you’ve experienced mental health issues in the past, because they all behaved as though it were a plague they couldn’t get away from fast enough. Loneliness changes your brain, distorts all of your thinking, about everything, convinces you you’re hopelessly unlikable. You can feel cold heartache in your bones.
Covid has taught me that people will fuck you over for a roll of toilet paper. They can be nice and thoughtful and kind but as the pandemic starts to end they are returning to “normal”; bitter, critical assholes, putting some serious hard labor into looking for the tiniest flaw to get over-angry about.
I have tried so much.
leave vancouver as soon as this pandemic situation is over and I can finally travel. Stuck at my parents house and can’t believe how long this has dragged on. Holy f-ing shit!!!!!!!
I am nowhere in life. I don't have any friends. I've never been on a date. I've never done any of the things that come after a (successful) date.
I've always been poor, unattractive and socially inept so I realized by my mid-20s that I'll have to learn to be an introvert and keep to myself. It wasn't easy, but I've made peace with being alone and not having a social life.
What really crushes my soul is that I've never become financially independent. I thought when I grew up I would at least get a decent job that I don't loathe going to and make enough to support myself and live with dignity, even if alone. I have never had an "adult" job in my life. A 14 year old could do my dead-end retail job. I wasted what savings I had going to school off and on. I failed math and science so I had to get a B.A. which is worthless to most employers. In desperation, I squandered the rest of my savings going back to school for something more "practical" before the pandemic started. Internships (if you don't have family or friends in high places) are how you get a foot in the door but I found that you need to have perfect grades or be an international student, with office experience from your home country, to be accepted.
At the end of 2019, I managed to make it to the final interview for my first grownup job. The two interviewers were both younger than me (as were the company owners). They made me wait for over an hour and then asked a bunch of trick "aptitude" questions which I clearly failed because they didn't hire me. It was humiliating.
I live in a basement suite in my mother's house (no, not for free). I am deeply ashamed of it. 30% of my annual income goes into deductions, and after bills, groceries and other expenses, there is little left for a down payment for a small condo. It will take years.
I have nothing saved for retirement. When my mother passes, I will officially be alone. I will have to work till the day I die, and if I get injured or can't work, I'll end up on the street. There isn't a happy ending for this confession, and there won't be one for my life.
... It's sort of annoying how they will try to pass you when cycling... and then run out of steam and slow down... It is as if they want you to stare at their ass or something...
I don't wear spandex while cycling, or have clipless pedals. I have a pretty shitty bike compared to these cycle idiots who have money. Once they pass me, I decide to crush them on some hills. Uphill and downhill. I wish they'd just let me enjoy my day without cutting me off and then going slow as fudge.
I hate spandex cyclists because of their cycle etiquette!
I can't do online dating anymore. I can't read one more profile, filled with hope, only to be disappointed by a TOTAL lack of information. No sense of who she is, nothing about personal interests, no idea what they like or dislike. Give me something!
My boyfriend has the unfortunate habit of only being able to tell me that he loves me when he’s drunk. The other unfortunate habit is that when he’s drunk he also says things like this: “I love you baby, in spite of who you are.” Or, “I love you even though you make terrible decisions and you’re so messed up.” If it wasn’t so pathetic I’d be laughing. I probably will after I dump his narcissistic ass.
Is always a gut wrenching experience. I've just never been good enough, cool enough, glamorous enough, accomplished enough, well traveled enough, conspicuous consumer-ed enough. At least my dog likes me for me. Thank God for dogs.
But I find it increasingly harder to make an effort to get out of bed and make it all the way to the bathtub. What do you think?