Done. And done.

Last post was 9 years ago. Let's recap what has transpired since. It's mostly been bad decision making and inaction. My apathy, indifference and general nonchalance towards life has peaked. I honestly believe I no longer have anything to live for. For the past few years I've pushed myself hoping "things will be better next year". But yeah, no. 35, underpaid, no friends, only "friends". Unlike most others, I'm a realist. I know its my fault; i don't know how to make friends. I'm dull and withdrawn and aloof. I don't how people click together, with me its always a game of chance, usually i lose. I'm envious of those who make small talk, it never comes naturally to me. Being socially isolated for so long has stunted my maturity, i believe I still think like a teenager for the most part. I have no idea how to speak to women, or how to pique their interest. Im sure i appear quite creepy to them because they (at least the ones in my office) try to avoid me as much as possible, not that i go out of my way to get their attention, but little things, like travelling in the elevator, or walking along the same aisle in the office.  I see people my age, and kids, and the advice their parents give them. I never got that from mine, and that makes me angry. I know i could have been a better person if i was taught how to be someone. Instead i had to learn most things myself, i.e. how to cope with work life, studies, being around people. The closest they ever came was criticising me when i failed, not offering a solution on how to fix it. I don't ask for help, from anyone. I mean sure, i borrow maybe a 100 bucks when i have no money on hand for fags, but thats about it. I don't share much personal details with people because i don't want the sidelong glances. Thus, ive made an art of pretending to be someone I'm not. I think being considered aloof, distant and creepy i.e. eccentric is better than being considered mentally ill. Depression is a cancer. It will eat away at your personality until all that is left is a suicidal husk of your former self. People tried to help me. But words alone aren't enough, and only my best friend was willing to truly help me. She did her best, but maybe i don't want her help. It's been a long time since anyone has asked if I'm okay. I have a knack for sabotaging myself; i wanted to start an MBA, friends helped did all they could to help me, yet I managed to somehow miss the registration deadline. I type this hoping maybe someone will take notice and help me. But I doubt it. I'm only hopeful about things I absolutely know I will not reach/achieve. For example, the girl I've been obsessed over for the two years. She isn't a particularly nice person, and she loathes me. But for some fucked up reason I still can't get her out of my head. I really do believe the only thing left for me to do is end my life. I hate what I am and feel ashamed for my parents because of it. I wonder if I'll be missed.