teks: A Little Self Loathing StoryI was originally going to call this Suicude Note. 

**Suicide Note**

If I die it'll most probably be due to one of the three following,


1.	I pissed off too many people and one of them killed me
2.	Heart Attack
3.	Car accident


If its one or two than you’d know that I don't care anymore. Why should I try to make difference when no one cares for me. As I write this I know my dad won't be here that much longer, and that scares me. I don't think I can manage life alone. Not without perfecting my writing or something which will never happen because it now just feels like a burden to me. It's not fun because I'm depending on it. It's the only thing I can do. I barely can work at my retail job that I actually love so much, but I feel so stressed at the amount of shit I've got to do. Everything is timed and I'm afraid that I won't even be able to hold myself together for much longer there. 

Then there's bills and shit. The way life is going I'm never going to be able to make it on my own. I have a car payment for a near dead car. An insurance payment, an internet payment, a phone payment, etc… it easily goes over what I make monthly. With the way the economy is I'm honestly surprised I haven't sliced my wrists into submission sooner. 

If I tell you the truth, the only thing saving me is music and books. The will to hold on for that next song, or the next entry to that saga I'm reading. 

I know people have it worse, at least I have a home, a car, at least I have money. Most people don't. Hell most people can't even hold onto a steady job for four years, [yes i've been with this retail branch for close to four years]. Yet I feel so miserable. You probably would never understand unless you were in my mind. 

My main problem is I'm alone. 
Yeah, I'm living with my father away the moment, but when he passes who'll be there for me? 
The way my life is heading the answer is no one, and that's pretty fucking bleak. 

I watch those videos on *TicTok* and *YouTube* and see men with their wives, boys with their girlfriends, girls with their girlfriends, boys with their boyfriends, husbands with their husbands. Stuff like that and I feel immensely sad. Cause I want that. I want someone to look at me like I'm something other than a fat ass sitting on a toilet writing this bleak paragraph. I know I'm something more but people refuse to see it. Hell, In even refuse to see it. I know I'm fat, I’m trying to work on that. I've actually lost about 20lbs in the last month. Still considered obese. [I'm 4 foot 3, 208lbs] and people ignore me. 

It feels as if I'm a supporting character in everybody else's life stories. No, supporting character is too big of a role. I guess you could just call me fodder, or if we want to take this analogy we seen further I could be considered a *Nord* in those fancy **Skyrim** games, and I'm not talking about the protagonist, I'm talking about those NPCs [Non-Playable Characters] who only have one line. That's how important I feel I am. 

The only importance I ever held to nobody would be the person they dated just to make their Ex's jealous. 

With all of this my self view of myself is very very low. Like, if someone ever did say In was cute I'd think, *Yeah, okay so what do you want me to do*

I figure I could be a male prostitute. I know men like me, but contrary to popular belief I'm not gay. It is true I've done some stuff with guys, but didn't enjoy it. Say, maybe I was using them to keep me from feeling alone.
Honestly that's exactly what I was doing. 

My life isn't what I thought it would be when I was eleven. I mean, I knew back then that I was epileptic. Yet now, I know I have arthritis. I've had that since I was thirteen. It's dreadful. 

It's only in my knees now, but I think I can feel it in one of my fingers. 

You maybe why I called this a suicide note. Well, one of those three things, I posted above, most likely will kill me. I'm not doing anything to change it. I consider that a version of suicide. 

I'm not going to the hospital for the chest pains I feel right now, why? Well that goes along with my money problem. 

If I survive than that means my life would be ruled by even more bills. 

I’m submitting a new definition to the word *life*.

 
Life. Noun. *The act of going to work to make money to spend on bills to just then go back to work to make more money to spend on more bills.*



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