Feeling like my life presents a useless and terrible burden on those close to me, and on society in general. Feel like I consume, without producing adequately in return. I look at the things I'm proudest of having done, and how pointless and empty and hedonistic they seem at their core. I look forward at what I might yet do, and I see more of the same uselessness.
I know I'm not an untalented person... I'm pretty okay at a lot of things. But what good does that do? I look outward at the world's problems, and I can't see myself making a meaningful impact on them. I don't think I can even make a positive impact on the lives of individuals, at least in any meaningful way. I look inward, and think about what it takes to sustain me; the energies I've stolen from animals and plants to sustain myself, the financial and emotional support I've required from parents and friends through my life. All that, to support me. But why? What do I offer them, in return for their investment? What do I represent, if not a parasite?
I know that this is most likely the ash-tinted lenses of depression talking, but there are times I'd like very much to unexist. I know that's impossible, and that the only way I could realistically pursue unexistance would be by further distancing myself from everyone who knows of me, before doing something... but I know that to do so would be hurtful to those who care about me, and disrespectful to all that the world has invested in me so far. But sometimes, it feels like the practical and just thing to do. To stop the energy sink I represent now, lest it become an even bigger one in the days and years to come.
I feel like I'm not worthy to live the life I've been given... that there are driven and capable and not fucked-up folks out there who could make far better use of what I have. But instead, I'm the one standing here, with my anxieties and weaknesses and self-doubt and general uselessness. And I don't know how to change these things. And when I think about it, I'm not sure I even want to... like there's a not insubstantial part of me that wants myself to fail, and suffer alone in so doing, for being so vacuous a thing.
PPE: Depressed self, can you go the fuck away? I kinda hate being you.