*** Venting ***

Every time I write something, I feel I lose something from my "value" because I expose myself with no real benefit. But keeping it to myself doesn't do any good to me, neither. On the contrary, I feel I'm choking if I don't let my thoughts and feelings out. Yesterday toward midnight I felt I'm about to have a nervous breakdown. I wish I can do anything else instead to channel these feelings like reading. But I cannot focus, and I'm in a very low state to have the will power to force myself.

I'm extremely frustrated in my life. I feel I'm heading to a darker place as the days pass. I think I'm in a point of no return. I have very negative view of life. I no longer seek to be happy. Not a single thought makes me happy, literally speaking. I see the negative in everything. I think it's something good I have no wife and children. I don't want to bring anyone to my world and suffer because of me.

This life is nothing but a big illusion. Most people think it's something beautiful or at least worth living. They are delusional. But this is what it takes to live. They have to be. If people had my view of life, probably there wouldn't be humans. Animals live the moment. If they get hungry, they eat. Feel a danger, they run. No wonder why "Zebras don't get ulcer". We humans are different. We can imagine things. We know we will die. We live in worry and frustration in our minds all the time. We are very sensitive and emotional, but we don't get the proportionate attention and love, because we are intrinsically selfish. We need the things that we cannot get or give.

To me, life is a place of struggle and suffering. Just ask yourself these questions: how many years you were/have been happy in your life? How many hours you are happy during your day? It doesn't help me viewing life this way, I admit that, but it's so powerful that I'm paralyzed. I'm surviving because I also fear death. But what life is this when you have no urge to live but you fear death!! I feel stuck. The pain is inconceivable and unbearable, and all is purely mental.

I feel there is something wrong in my body, too. I feel there something doesn't belong there, but I always fight the idea of going to a doctor and get it checked. Today, there is a meetup meeting with a group I used to go to. But I'm fighting the idea of going so hard. I see no point. I haven't been out of my apartment since last Sunday. Haven't talked to anyone since I spoke with the cashier then a few words. Force myself to call my parents because probably they would be worried if I didn't call. But all of this is just pretending. I don't want to talk to them not because I don't like them, but because I don't want to talk to anyone.

Thanks for reading.