Fuck my life I just don't get it

other people seem to have jobs they do every day as if it were a simple chore, then they come home and gracefully finish their day. these people seem to be able to eat regularly, brush their hair and teeth, maintain a physical appearance, and even work alongside others, every single day

why can't I be one of those people? Why aren't I one of those people? When I was little I admired my aunt, a woman with an impressive career, who was unwed well into her life because in her words, she was married to her job. I wanted that bad when I was little, a purpose in life that paid me well and swept me off my feet, that I could pour my overflowing self into and finally not be too much

i did everything right at first, found a difficult job I was good at and worked hard at it. Advanced, blazed a little trail for myself and made a name. I unraveled slowly at first, not eating regularly, severe skin picking, not sleeping right, and then calling out because of the effect those things had on me. And I tried to get help. I went to a psychiatrist who refused to put me on meds. She referred me to a therapist after diagnosing me with BPD and PTSD, and she always told me how high functioning I was and that if I just got the right coping skills, I /might/ be okay. My therapist was dead eyed and just kept telling me how sorry she was. I didn't have health insurance. It was expensive and frustrating. I felt like the psychiatrist dangled a carrot in front of me, the meds.  I stopped going. 

I tried group therapy through a nonprofit support group but because I have an inability to draw boundaries of any kind, my relationship with the others got out of hand, I stopped going to that after 1.5 years. There was not much healing or support for me there after all. 

I was really unraveled by then. I was paranoid at work as well as home that my pet would die or that someone was conspiring against me. I drank to ease my fears. I was drunk a lot, still am. I smoked at work, never was on the clock without being stoned. My judgement at work suffered. I began to self harm again. I gained 100lbs. I quit that high stress job, because I was afraid it would eat me up.

So what next? The career I thought I was going to marry didn't work. I tried a callcenter, but girl you already know why that didn't work for my unstable ass. I tried a different field, but they didn't tell me until after I was hired that they had mandatory overtime and I flew into a rage when they told me, caused a scene, and I left. I tried another field, but quit after being told I had to carpool with a man... yeah that's all it was. I know. I tried another field, but my coworkers were awful horrible trolls who talked about me constantly, tore me down at every chance, laughed about me when I was in the other room, lied to me, gaslight me, and provoked me at every chance they got. That's probably not all the way true, but I swear to god that's what happened. So I stopped going back. 

Then, after burning every bridge in fuckin town, I became a cashier at a dollar store. Where basically, someone else got covid and I got laid off for it. It was the happiest I've been in years, mindlessly beep beep beeping people's worthless garbage, handing them back their change. Nobody to provoke me. Nothing to drive me mad. It was only temporary until christmas but I was put on quarantine for the last two weeks of the job. 

During those two weeks, some amazing redditors let me make them art in exchange for money, my partner kept saying I should make that my job. He also said now is a good time to start an apprenticeship, as I've always wanted to tattoo. He makes double what I made at my last 3 jobs, so I've been paying bills, getting groceries, and doing all the housework, and he pays rent. basically he pays like $200 more than I do. 

My partner sent me like 10 different jobs that are hiring, he keeps blowing my phone up being like "Maybe you'd like to work at so-and-so!" etc. and asking me "What would you like to do for work now?"  Now it's time to find something else and I literally am in tears putting in apps. I had to take a break to vent here, to someone that might understand. 

I don't know! I don't know what I want to do! I know I don't want to become so worked up at my job that I come home and burn myself to let it out. I don't want to become so saddened by someone or something that I come home and drink til I'm numb. I don't want to feel provoked or disrespected by someone and make a fucking fool out of myself in public. I don't want to feel like I am so dysfunctional that I can't even function in this society and that I'm better off dead, because at least then I wouldn't have to feel the pain of failing every single hour that makes up the day. 

I hate that he injected me with hope and then ripped the rug out from under me. My BPD is screaming "SEE! I was right! You can't trust what he says! You can't trust hope! Better get back to work and make some money in case his next suggestion is you getting the fuck out!" 

More than that I hate that this is where I'm at. Why can't I just function? I wish I didn't give up my good job in the one field I actually cared about. I wish I could have handled it. I wish I wasn't dead inside. I wish I cared about anything else. I wish I could just push myself to do it anyway. 

ugh sorry rant over