I hate my life.

For the last six years, I have felt like I’m a spectator watching while my physical body goes through the motions of life. Except for a few moments I can count on one or two hands, I have never felt truly engaged with my life or with the world around me. I am also addicted to p**********, probably hopelessly so. It’s not that I look at it every day; it’s that I try so hard to stop, even going 50 or 70 days at a time cold turkey, and I inevitably return to it. I recently started my first real full-time job (finally, it’s about time considering how old I am, I’m so pathetic) with benefits and everything, but most days it feels like torture simply to go and be at work. All my other jobs I’ve quit b/c I couldn’t handle the mental and emotional stress anymore (which manifests itself in physical pain and tension too). So I have a deathly premonition that this job will end the same ignominious way. I’ve been “diagnosed” with anxiety disorder and depression, and I’ve taken a thousand different pills and nothing helps. Well, I’m on clonazepam and paroxetine (Paxil) now, and all that does is numb me for a little while. I’ve been to a million doctors and shrinks, I’ve tried Christianity, I’ve tried turning to family and friends/making friends–nothing helps.

I’m not interested in anything–except feeling better and/or numbing myself from my pain. Right now, I’m feeling hopeless.