Connecting with people matters so much to me, despite the fact I’ve failed so badly at it.
Not my fault in a way, given how I was raised. But anyway, my trials have not been too successful. I’m different, so people diss, dismiss, and reject me. They aren’t interested cuz I’m different. I’ve tried so hard. But I tend to talk too much, it seems. I’m interested in what other people have to say but I’m so desperate to speak that I probably don’t give them enough space. Perhaps I’m a “bore.” I try not to be and I’ve been told many times I’m a good conversationalist, but that doesn’t translate into long-term friends. I do have a few of those, but they aren’t the people who told me I’m a good conversationalist.
How the heck can I be lonely in an overpopulated world of 7 billion people? Dunno, but I am. So lonely.
Every time I spend time with people, I feel angst afterwards. I talked too much. I failed. Sorry to say this, and I don’t mean to be “negative” but my life is fail and I should not have been born.
Still I keep trying. Working on some huge changes right now, not that anyone cares.
My ex lives in the same building as me. More than 2 years since the separation, many moments of angst. I hate letting go. But soon I’ll be moving far away. Torture.
Maybe I’ll actually get a life worth living, soon.
“Give me love, give me peace on earth.” An obscure album I bought in my teen years. I was a Beatles fan early.
Wish me luck. Suicide ain’t pretty, but neither is the pain of fuitile loneliness.