So, I had an emotional breakdown yesterday. I guess I'm basically still having it. I'm just going to get to the point I guess. Prepare for a wall of text where I use the word "feel" more than is probably strictly necessary.
I don't know what fun is. I don't think I ever knew what fun is. The video games I thought I know and love really just occupied my time better than alternatives. I don't think I really ever enjoyed myself playing games. Even in my tf2 days, the time in my life where it was basically all I played. I used to look back fondly on that time, but now I'm not sure I ever enjoyed it. When we won I don't think I was ever happy about it. There was certainly disappointment when we lost, but nothing else. There would be another round. There would always be another round.
In general I don't think I've ever really been happy. Maybe short bursts of pride for being able to play on a harder difficulty maybe, but never happiness. The only friends I can really ever say I knew in real life other than my family are gone, and have been for years. I never even learned there last names. Even then, I'm pretty sure any fun I had was at their own expense. My whole past just feels like fog, and if I try to remember anything about my life, the only thing that comes to mind is what games I was playing at the time.
Its not even that I just forgot the names of those people or just never learned them. Everything about those people I regarded as friends. People I trusted. Its all gone. I don't remember a single facet of any of their personalities. Most of them were male, I think and even that is uncertain. Even the people I used to hate with such passion in my early days, all of my memories about them are basically gone. I've got two first names I could look for, and I don't want to do it. Because I fear how much of an idiot my past self was. I don't want to know what they really thought of me. Past me was a massive, collosal idiot and I have no way to refute that.
There's something wrong with me. For once in a long time, the fact that I don't feel anything seems like a bad thing to me. (Obligatory reference to the dwarven personality trait "Doesn't care about anything anymore" goes here.) There were a few times as a young child that I vaguely recall running around without a single care. I think those were the only times I ever lived rather than just existed. There was a time yesterday when I was lying down doing nothing but wallowing in my own misery. In that time, I picked up one of my portable gaming devices with the words "Might as well." Then, I immediately asked myself "What's the point?", and put it back down. I didn't even turn it on. I don't think I've ever done anything like that before.
Video games were my life, and now I know that all they were, was escapism. But I think I've been escaping the real world for so long that I never really existed in it at all. I always kind of liked the ambiguity of my name and such, and its cliche to say this. But I feel like I've become the mask as it were. I've always been on the sidelines, watching other people have things happen to them. I could never join in. I was just a person, some other guy, no one in particular. Someone incosequential person whose actions were unimportant, and not memorable.
I feel like I've always just been a burden. Like I've never contributed anything meaningful to anything. Having to have 3 expensive major surgeries before I even get my wisdom teeth out doesn't help that belief at all. I'm one of the physically weakest people I know my age. I could never find the time and effort to fix that. By this point I probably need to gain something like 20 pounds to be considered a normal weight for my height/age. Most days I can barely even eat more than 1 meal a day, but I'm not losing weight for it. Trying to gain muscle would inevitably make the goal of weight gain even harder unless I get to the point where I'm burning enough calories to need 3 meals a day again.
Its like I'm just a blank slate that's never been filled in. I feel like I don't even have an identity. I have a name certainly, and a face, and a few little quirks, but its like I'm not all there. Like something crucial is missing. I don't even know who I am anymore. I used to have breakdowns like this a long time ago, for me anyway in the past. Back then it was me lying to myself about the world hating me, but now I can't refute anything I'm saying about myself with kind words. Everything I've said to myself is true, and that's the worst part. At one point I tried thinking happy thoughts, only to have no truly fond memories to look back on. Back then I used to consider suicide regularly, but I was always too afraid of death to do it. I still am now. I'd have to ask someone to help me, and the social interaction that would require is beyond me, even if such things become legal. I still don't want to die. I want to live, but I don't know how. I want to feel emotions other than despair and anger. I feel like almost everything I say and do is fake. 90% of all the emotions I ever show, and the things I say are probably manufactured, because I don't even know how to be genuine.
If I ever dissapear from bay12 I've probably either died horrible or have some other health problem. Either that, or I've decided to try and detox from my addiction to games. Because that's all it really can be looking back. But I don't see that happening anything soon. Because games are all I have left. All I've ever had. I need to find something. I don't know what. And I don't know if I can manage the effort to look. I might need to find a real person. Make a real friend. I don't know if I can do that.
Yesterday I must have spent 2 or 3 hours staring at my computer screen doing nothing. When I decided to maybe catch up on Welcome to Nightvale, since it was something I liked and wouldn't require much input, I only found I couldn't focus. Hearing is practically automatic, and I couldn't bring myself to care enough about the only sound in the room. I'd almost like to relive my life to see if I can fix things, but I know I'd change things. Probably for the better of others. I'd probably try and stop 9/11 from happening, even as but a child. And that's why I know if someone were to ever receive such a chance, it wouldn't be me. I would be too busy trying to help others rather than myself. I suppose you could twist that into being a good thing. But all that means is that I don't really place any value on my own life. In the end I'd just end up watched by more people than I probably already am, and in the same situation.
There are only a few people that can really make me feel genuine emotions, albeit rarely, and basically none of them I know in real life. I always used to play with two of my cousins, but every time we ended up drifting apart for awhile, they'd rack up new accomplishments and successes. They would play music, do martial arts, gain real skills with meaning, fill their life with a purpose, even if it wasn't originally their own. I remained stagnant, and while they were off in their own lives, I could only wallow in my failure, and play video games.
I don't know why I'm telling you all this. I guess I need help. Professional help probably. But I guess bay12 will do for now.
(Sidenote: I've always said I'm bad at writing, but the way I've phrased some of this would probably impress me if not for the subject matter.)