I've returned to PC after a month of absence and I don't feel any better; as a matter of fact I feel worse than I ever have.

Every day feels like a long list of failures waiting to collapse into a singularity of worthlessness on the center of my being, which itself is filled with pain and woe. I can't stop feeling weak, helpless, stupid. Every time I work up the courage to fight and succeed I feel like the whole world turns around and tries destroys me, using their superior numbers, weapons, and tactics to force me into failure.

I long for a death that probably won't come until (A) I'm in my 100's and a vegetable or (B) the very moment I find happiness and wish to keep on living. I've tried suicide but it got me beaten by the police who came to help me and then they rubbed my face at the feet of my problems and laughed at me. (Who knows what they'd do to my actual dead body if they found it) And every goal I set for myself, even the small, implausibly easy ones-- like moving 100 feet in total in one day-- I fail at, as if it were predestined.

I'm the ultimate failure and a huge let down who has done nothing but cause undue harm and sorrow in my long tenure as a failure to all human kind. All I understand is pain.

I sought out companionship and only found lies. I looked for work and only found exclusion. I hunted even the most minimalistic thing to bring a smile to my face and I found dog poop.

I don't understand anything anymore. Everything hurts all the time and I don't feel up to snuff to handling it anymore-- but I'm too much of a coward to take my own life; proving once more that I fail at everything.