i wish i don’t have to give a shit
but I just can’t
TW: suicide, anxiety
I wish I don’t have to give a shit. About what people think of me. About what life throws at me. About my grades, my life, my talent (or lack thereof, that is). It’s an art, not giving a shit. I wish I could just go for the stuff I want to do. I wish I could talk and laugh without worrying that people would judge me. I wish I didn’t fear rejection like it’s the plague or something.
The problem is I can’t. The moment I get in bed, the thoughts come flooding in like a tsunami. The moment I find myself with a group of people, a force holds me back from joining in with the conversation. There’s a demon inside of me that I can’t pull away from.
I’m shy, I’m quiet. The demon is me. I am the demon. I wish I was born in another body. I wish I was prettier, cooler, more charismatic. Instead here I am, a pathological people pleaser who masks it with kindness. But I’m telling you, people always see through it because fun fact: nobody’s ever called me nice, let alone kind, my entire life. Even though I do every single favour people ask me for. Even though I apologise for every minor inconvenience I bring about. Even though I let everyone push me around like a swing. They know. They know I’m a people pleaser. And nobody likes narcissists.
I try, I do. I follow every single trend, make a playlist filled with the music they listen to. I wear the clothes they wear, take pictures the way they do. I try to make myself as similar to them as possible in hopes I could strike up all these conversations I have all planned out in my mind. But that demon tells me that people would judge me for butting in.
People like people who don’t give a shit. But I can’t not give a shit. I’m destined to be hated, to be universally disliked.
I don’t remember being like this. I remember the times when I was in the playground, running and playing with a huge group of boys that I randomly got close with. I remember myself in sixth grade, playing truth or dare with my three best friends. I remember when I was physically able to join in with other people’s conversations without crying the moment I got home. I remember being invited to birthday parties. I remember getting excited for school. I remember break being my favourite part of school.
I wonder what changed.
Was it when I went to secondary school and I knew nobody in my class? I probably expected an extrovert to adopt me and just hung around looking like a dead rat. Maybe that was when I lost all my confidence and replaced that with a shitload of social anxiety.
Wait, but no. I remember convincing my parents not to bring me to new interest classes because I didn’t want to meet new people.
Maybe anxiety runs in my genes. My grandmother was diagnosed with it, after all.
Or maybe it’s just me. I thought moving to another school, to another country would work. I thought the people in my old school were just idiots. Turns out I was pretty far off, because I’m in the exact situation I was in a year ago.
Funny how everyone likes me at first and all end up the opposite. It’s not my looks, not my voice, not my posture.
It was me, all along. I was the dickhead all along.
Maybe I’m just destined to live life hanging by a thread, to seek every single type of validation possible, to overanalyse every single conversation.
I’ve broken down, I’ve told people. All they tell me is “don’t give a shit”. I know. I know I shouldn’t give a shit. But I can’t. I obviously want to not give a shit, but I just fucking can’t. Why does nobody understand? I’m tired of giving a shit. I’m tired. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t peel myself off the demon’s grasp.
The fittest survive.
I’m not fit to survive. If I were a hunter in the olden days, I would’ve already died because I would’ve been worried about offending a lion.
In a parallel universe, I would’ve flung myself off a building out of pure spite. I would’ve done this in this life, except that I’m scared. I’m scared of life and death at the same time. Why am I living this life when I’m forever going to be stuck in the labyrinth of fear?
How the flying fuck do you guys not give a shit? I want to know. I really want to know.
author’s note: im sorry for a) not posting consistently and b) for letting people read this poorly written shitass rant that would give my English teacher a stroke.
