How often does it come up?

I mean, how often do you consider killing yourself? As of late, it seems like it would be a rather liberating experience. I've realized one thing that is common in the last four years of my life: I am a failure in all aspects of life. There hasn't been a single thing that I've done in four years that I've been successful with. After a successful high school career, I went on to community college to be a stepping stone into my future. I became scared of expanding my furthering education. I took entry classes that spanned over many areas of study and I found none that I was intrigued by. So I took classes so that I could take classes. I took classes so that I may be enrolled in school. I took classes so I could retake classes. I took classes so I could fail classes. Looks like it has all caught up to me now.

I mean, I've been depressed before and it was pretty much related to the fact that Rachel and I had broken up. Not just the breaking up part, but the fact that she went on a rampage of dudes after we'd been together for two and a half years. When something like that happens, it tends to fuck with your head... Mine at least. I feel like I have very strong morals, and that doesn't fly with me so much. In those times I felt very inadequate, as I currently do, but I felt as though I could not possibly please anyone, be desirable, or be with anyone again. In those times school had taken an even larger toll on my mental spine. In that time I felt that it would've been easy to just take a knife and kill myself or steal one of my friend's guns and shoot myself. That of course has passed, but now I wonder how easy it would be to jump off of a cliff and let gravity take it's toll. Or maybe veer head on into a truck while I'm driving the bug; see how easily that would obliterate my existence. And if I did any of these things, do you know how much of a burden would be lifted off the shoulders of my parents? I've gotten many chances, but I seem to fuck them up every time. If I simply were nonexistent then there would be no failure to weigh me down. There wouldn't even be any 'if-then' statements. There would just be nothing. My existence would be a mangled corpse deprived of mental cognition and conscious. I wouldn't have to worry about anything more because when I'm dead, I'm dead. There's nothing more than that.

Its happening again.

As what was noted in the post preceding this one, I am feeling a bout of depression coming on. I'm doing well in school and I do hope to pass with a B average this semester, but with doing will in one aspect, I fall short in another. I look to this past summer. I worked out every single day for an hour to two hours. Everyday. I felt good, and many people were not even able to match my stamina or determination. I was still a large guy but I felt great. Let's fast forward to one month ago. Due to bad form (for once) in one of my work outs as well as contorting my body in an awkward way at dodgeball, I injured my lower back. This is always the big killer with me. I literally could not get rid of the pain for two weeks and in those two weeks I decided to give gluttony a stab and have been eating through the holidays as they come and go. Two weeks ago I found that my back pain had subsided just a bit, but still hurt. I wake up every morning with my femur feeling as though it is puncturing through it's socket and into my back. I wake up tilted, and odd. Additionally, at the championship tournament at dodgeball last week I decided to fracture my foot yet again. During the summer I did break it, my workout did stop, but not for as long as it currently has been. In that time I decided to fully make a connection with someone, but as it turns out that connection could only connect on one side. So back to the grind I went. That's the past though. To emphasis, my back hurts, and I hurt my foot. Waking up and getting out my bed is the worst pain I deal with all day and I regret it as soon as I wake up.

So, I'm sad because of this lack in exercise. As I said before, I'm a big guy. I'll always be a big guy, but I want to be a strong big guy. Not someone who just doesn't care about themselves. Tonight, after this Finals shit is done, I'm going to go back to what needs to be done. Correct myself. I need to.

This is in the back of my mind

Although I'm in a happy state now, there are always elements of an incompleteness. So we explore my mind and the things that trouble it. I take hold of what I am and I realize that I am my connectome; I am my memories and I see my neurons. I know that at this point we've evolved past the point of these petty blogs in our connection to each other. We friend each other on our facespace and have a passive aggressive lifestyle of non-interaction. The reason I got one of these is to stay connected to the people that I felt i had a deeper emotional connection to. Turns out I didn't, and it also turns out that if my friendships were set on a line graph of social interaction and caring for one another despite distance, that line would inevitably drop down to zero.

I find that many of my friendships start off as extremely stimulating. The friendship grows, and grows, and it gets to the point that I see something that someone else doesn't. For the female persuasion, I see that I could potentially date or have sex with them. They'll get boyfriends while keeping it a secret from me (in some cases) and tear me from their minds.

I could be a better boyfriend.

I'll make you feel good about yourself.

More importantly... I'll take care of you like no one could.

But I'll sit in the back, distancing myself and always wondering what it would've been like if I had partaken in better choices in my past. Minutely striving in sporadic times to better myself, but ultimately hurting myself in the end. Sure, I'll feel better for a while, but the better it gets in the physical world the more mental strain I accumulate. The problem rests with my self-esteem. I will, have, and for the foreseeable future will think of myself as unattractive. That's the way it goes. When I think back to my high school days I constantly thought that I was horribly unattractive though in those times, especially my last year there, I was the most attractive I've ever been. Even though I was getting female attention, I still cast it away because I just didn't feel any fucking good for anyone. My perfection is something that I see as unattainable. This isn't just the physical aspect that is out of reach but the mental capacity as well. For so long I've lived my life in a very clean manner. While everyone I grew up was getting drunk and smoking weed, I decided to do my homework and study. Yet, I couldn't even come close to the intelligence that my friends and the people around me possessed. I just couldn't contemplate how I was even acceptable to them as a person. I'm seen as the comic relief, and that's the only thing I've got for myself; perhaps that's why I was there. Some even consider me to be the nicest person that they've me. The guy that will help them whenever they truly are in a bind... and its true, I will, but so should all of your friends if they truly care about you or if they have the slightest bit of sense to them. If they don't? They should be reconsidered.

And as I wrote previously, females cause strain to me, but I am not one to single out. Males also have this ability to drive me crazy, and although the sexual side of the equation doesn't factor, I still find myself in the world of ups and downs. I've had so many best friends, but I'm glad that they're more males than females now because I can't deal with my females getting thrown around. What I see with my male friends is a sense of usability. Being attractive doesn't really factor into them being my friend. There is a preset value of worth. I am worth something, and I stimulate some sort of social need. I have skills that are handy, and I'm useful... but, again, at some point that usefulness will dry up. Another male friend will be found, and I will be replaced. I still will have a replenishing usefulness that I will help me to see my male friends every couple of years, but that doesn't seem to be the case with my female friends.
As long as my ability to be useful dries up, I'm gone. Never coming back. If someone as nice as me does anything questionable to the moral fiber of which I have projected towards those females, EVEN if that questionable act is nothing at all (example: You thinking I said something when I clearly said nothing out of the ordinary. Perception.). I have been told that all I want to do is sleep with my (a) female friend BY my (the) female friend. Not so much the case. If I was paid attention to, it'd be obvious that those would not be my first intentiona. If I'm talking to you, chances are I'd like more than just that. Companionship of sorts. I've only slept with two people in my life. Two people I've cared a great deal for... at the time. Things change. I spent much time and taken on such an emotional toll with one in particular. Its a very sad day when you find that the person you are madly in love with doesn't find you attractive. Only loves you because you care for them, and sleeps with one of your very good friends only a couple of weeks after it has broken off. What am I to do? My view has now changed. I saw every girl as potentially heartbreaking, and when the next time came around I opened up and gave a chance. The time was beautiful, but then I got the boot. Not a word is to be spoken to me. At first I was sad that I again had been set aside, but now I feel extremely angry. My middle finger in the air, and a 'fuck you' coming from right behind it.
I'm a nice guy. I know it. I'm not cocky. I just know I'm nice. I don't deserve to be pushed around like that. How is it that every time I put my arms around someone they tell me that with me they'll never be hurt again?... but the pain they cause me comes not from their physical self but from the sting of their words. From the bite of their passive actions. It soaks into me slowly. It burns for hours, days, weeks, months, years. I can't accept that. I will never use you. I will never ever see a female, or a female friend of mine as something but purely a sexual object. Who the fuck could I be? How could I live with myself? Its the world we live in, though. I just wont participate. I care. I give a shit. I can't even set in words the disgust I feel just by writing it here... I just can't.
So as all of these end. What do I do? How do I correct the situation? Well... I can't. There's nothing I can do. There's nothing. It makes me sad. It verges me to tears. I just realize that I will never be happy. I know I have to love myself in order for someone to love me. Its better the other way. If I were loved, I'd feel better about myself. How do I know? I've been there. It was a short period of time, as it turns out, but I was there. All I can do is write here. I realize that I only have three friends who read this and I know that only one will potentially care. There is one who thinks there is more to it than this. And there will be one who actually hasn't ever cared. Although hopeful of that, I know that it wont be read. I write this as a way to beg for attention. Who the fuck cares? I'll just have to deal with it by myself anyways. As I always have.