I'm concerned that these 'parts' are becoming completely intangible, as they were intended to be read as one. I didn't post as one because I felt it made an unpleasant read, I'm hoping to find the balance between too much and not enough as I post more.
Bear with me while I do!
I had the potential, IQ-wise, to become something decent enough to pay my way in life and live in relative comfort.
In accepting this, I’ve become a disgusting egotist. I’ve been told to accept it repeatedly, and now that I do, I’m even more unhappy. I dislike it. I don’t mind being a bit clever in some aspects, but I mind knowing I am. I hate myself for it in a way that I can barely put into words.
This expectation, the potential that everyone but me saw when I was young, has finally begun to make sense to me, but rather than free me it’s trapped me. I feel a self-loathing that never leaves. I’m utterly miserable.
I read back every word that I write, and I see smug arrogance, obscene egotism and a desperate need to assert my “intelligence” through my writing and into the mind of whoever’s reading. It’s like I think I’m some kind of troubled genius, a diamond in the rough, Will Hunting.
I’m not though, I’m of moderate intelligence and I’m unhappy. It’s simple.
All that realization does though, is raise more questions. If it’s simple, why am I complicating it?
As far as I can tell, it’s because I see things in a very black and white way. It’s a typically young and male trait, according to my doctor, so perhaps it’s unsurprising. Everything must have a solution.
I think about these things, and then I think of ways to end a misery I’ve found myself in. I think of suicide, researching some pretty easy and painless ways to do it, but I’m too scared. I think of running away, but I realise I’m too penniless for the train. I think of a relationship, but hurt is inevitable for everyone and I’m sick of hurting people that aren‘t me. I think of self-harm, but it’s a short-term solution to a permanent problem. I think of exercise, but I can’t motivate myself to run when I can’t even motivate myself to wake up.
I’m so scared that I’ll feel this for the rest of my life. Too scared to die and too scared to live.