Here we go again with the mass murders plaguing our country. This time it’s some creepy 22 year old who’s upset that he can’t get laid. Man, what’s wrong with people? Rather than work on yourself and try to become something better of yourself you resort to killing people because you’re frustrated?
Seriously, f*** this guy. I’m 24 and in the same boat. Not one kiss, not one date, not one hand held. I often struggle with my loneliness and depression and have thoughts of suicide too. Guess what though, I don’t go around killing people. I can almost see myself in this stupid kid, and that’s what pisses me the f*** off. I don’t want to be like him but I have more in common with this murdering psychopath than I do with the normal people around me.
Where we differ is that I’m trying to change my mentality. I’m trying to change and eliminate the things that make me feel this way. This is easier said than done though. I relapse a lot and fall into the same habits that put me here in the first place. I am a forever alone. Someone who instead of being able to mingle with people just chooses a corner and hides, usually messing with my phone or handheld video-game system.
Almost everyday since I hit my 20s I think to myself, “Why can’t I be like those guys who seem happy with their girlfriends at their side? What’s the difference between me and them?”
Little by little I’ve been trying to piece it together, like a puzzle. The problem is that I think some of the pieces are missing from the box. I don’t know enough about myself to complete the puzzle. I can only blame myself for this. I didn’t prepare myself with the knowledge at a young age nor did I have a role model close to me that taught me these things.
Look, my family has done a lot for me. They put a roof over my head. They fed me, they clothed me, they offered what advice they could. For that I am grateful (even though I don’t show it at times). The problem is that I only have one side of my family to look at. My mom and dad split up when I was a baby. I think I’ve seen her just twice since I was 2 years old, or at least that I can remember. I last saw her when I was about 6 years old. She wasn’t there for me when I needed her. In fact, she left me behind. I know next to nothing about her because my dad’s side of the family disapproved of her. They always did this type of thing. I think it’s a Colombian thing. My grandma along with my two eldest aunts would be like a tribunal. If they didn’t like someone that was that. They seemed to have the last say. In fact they ruined a few relationships that they disapproved of.
As a man you shouldn’t have to worry about what the family is going to think about a person, just as long as you make each other happy. Sure it’s nice if everyone gets along but life isn’t like a fairy tale where everyone lives happily ever after. There are fights, disagreements, break ups, reconciliations, etc. Why let other dictate your life for you when you’re the one living your own life?
The male role models in my life have a pretty fucked up way of looking at women. My dad and his brothers always told me how women in this country were stuck up b******. They objectified the women’s bodies and now I find myself with the same f****** problem. I should focus on their personality and what it is about them that makes me think about them. Instead all I think about is how her a** looked in those jeans.
It wasn’t always like this I think. When I was a kid I didn’t think about that kind of stuff, but then I hit puberty and things just kind of went downhill from there. I was the fat kid, the excluded one. The one who girls would talk about amongst themselves and say “ewwww” or “gross”. This didn’t exactly break the stereotype my family had that women in this country were stuck up. It only strengthened this belief when the girls in my classes looked at me with disgust. I always felt bad about myself, and the people around me didn’t really help with that. I don’t think like them though, I’m smart enough to know that there’s more to it than what these bitter old men have to say.
The thing is that I was blessed to have the brain that I have. If I had some other way of thinking I fear I would’ve done what this stupid fucker did. I would’ve shot up a place, killing innocents before ultimately killing myself. I am not that way though. I am intelligent and reasonable enough to understand that thinking that way is unhealthy and unnatural.
In closing I want others to know that there’s always going to be a place you can turn to. That place is within yourself. If you reflect on your good deeds, your sins, your accomplishments, and your failures…you inherently know which feelings are helpful and which are hurtful.
…
Why I haven’t jumped off the Willis Tower yet to stop these feelings are beyond me.