Posted by:
anon for this ya'll
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Date: July 04, 2011 09:41AM
So I've come to terms with something I'm sure you all will think is very stupid and won't believe I've even taken time to think about.
Ever since I can remember, my entire life I have been angry. Angry about *anything*. At a very young age I was taken in to therapy to try and work out the anger issues - that didn't help, pills didn't help, and even though I've always had a very loving and caring family I've always felt alone.
I've always been sure that there is some sort of pre-destiny. I don't believe in time, but the Universe is so old and complex that everything that happens has had to have echoed and etched itself somewhere out in space down to the point of our actions and thoughts, until we all die. I am always at a self conflict - I think like this, but then I always think I'm some sort of fluke, that I wasn't supposed to be born, and I'm interrupting the flow of everything else here. This kind of thinking leads me to suicidal thoughts constantly - I never have acted out on them. In fact, growing up I thought this was normal and everyone else had them as well. Apparently not, or at least not at the rate I do. It's like a shadow, in fact, the thought of death is the only friend I really have these days. But I won't act on it - it's an unspoken relationship, a taboo until we meet naturally. Maybe my fat will help speed this process up.
Why am I writing this out? Why does any of this have to do with what I'm writing now? The fact is, and the reason I've been angry for all of my life is because even as a small child I've known something, even if it was subconscious, even if it was a "feature" I was born with.
I have a small penis.
It's what would make me physically fight kids in elementary school on almost a daily basis.
It's what kept me away from chasing girls in high school and eventually leaving the church in that time period (I'd spend nights investigating instead of going outside and having fun).
It's what has stopped me from giving a shit about my body.
It's what keeps me from conversation or even having the want or need to socialize. At the very least I keep my job and that's it, lately my co workers are getting friendly and I don't know how to handle this.
I can lose the weight. I can become social. But what's the point? I'll never be adequate enough. I'll never show true love because of my short salute. I will be forever the butt of the joke of all men, even after my death - me and the many men before me and after me that suffer at this.
I could go get help. I could stop being a coward and talk to someone about this in the real world. I could try to find some sympathy. But I'll never be good enough.