Can’t afford therapy yet (hopefully will soon), gonna rant here instead because I’m a crazy person and I have no friends or family.

My love life is a joke. My life is a joke. I am a joke. An unfunny one at that. 

I’m an incel. And before you can say it:

1. I’ve had sex (a few awkward encounters) 

2. And I most certainly don’t hate women. 

I was raised mostly by women and was taught to respect them and uphold modest values (grew up super duper religious in a super duper religious country). But that was the norm for me. I was never allowed to talk to girls or go out with female friends until high school in America, when I became agnostic. And by then, I had (and still have) little to no fucking idea how to do so. I’ve managed to make some female acquaintances here and there and I’ve had female coworkers who occasionally say to me as I pass by them (that is enough to make my day sometimes), but that’s about the farthest I can get with building a relationship with anyone. I seriously don’t know how, but I managed to sleep with three people in my life. Mostly from when I was 19. Guess I passed my prime. 

I don’t even talk to the people in my family. Long story short; we don’t get along. I’m no longer the religious kid they wanted and we’ve gotten into so many falling outs we just drifted apart and don’t talk to each other anymore. We were too different. 

I’m too different to fit in with my surroundings. I can never just have a normal relationship with anyone. Ever since I was a kid and I was playing make believe alone in my basement with toys, I’ve been talking to myself. Yes, I know that sounds fucking crazy and it is. But I had to become my own comforting voice (or voices) my own friend at an early age. I’ve been in and out of therapy for years. I struggle a lot with expressing myself to other people. 

I often can’t help but fantasize about everyday social scenarios in which I am an outgoing, lovable guy who never stutters—who always knows what to say— who everyone else can’t get enough of. These scenarios often involve familiar faces in my life or people who I want to impress in order to reassure myself that I’m not as bad as I believe these people think I am. It’s very eerily similar to how The Joker fantasizes about Murray referring to him as his son, or his hot neighbor being his girlfriend. I imagine being sociable and having healthy relationships with people currently in my life in a very similar fashion. 

If there’s anything I’ve learned from being a socially-inept hermit and isolating my whole life, it’s that I’m actually quite a good conversationalist when I’m talking to myself— Im funny, talkative, and exciting to talk to. I’m able to direct the scene to my exact liking and guarantee certain outcomes. 

I can’t do that shit in real life. People are unpredictable, untrustworthy, and downright judgmental. My PTSD kicks in whenever it’s time to make conversation with people. Sometimes, all I can hear is the jeering laughter from years of being bullied and abused across the world as a child. All my jokes and funny stories and witty comments and daring initiative goes out the fucking window and I instead turn into this flavorless husk of a person with nothing exciting to say. 

If I encounter a girl I like, I literally don’t know what to do or how to proceed. Ill always keep my interactions with her platonic, friendly, and short and then I leave her alone and go about my business. I’m usually too afraid of being viewed as a creep to take any further action. I still can’t help but turn my gaze sometimes because of how I was raised. And then when she ends up falling for some other dude, I’ve always got the “surprised Pikachu” look on my face. I spiral when that happens and end up writing paragraphs like these, only much darker.  

It’s the same shit everywhere I go. And thusly, I have no motivation to be better. And then that shit turns into a positive feedback loop. And instead of living my life to the fullest, I lose precious years of my limited time on earth to depression. And for the 24th year in a row, I’m going to be alone on my birthday. And Christmas. And New Years. And Valentines. And every other Holiday on the calendar that involves get-togethers with family and friends and partners. 

Fuck me. (Not)