If you ever want to talk or vent, I'm here, aight? Suicide isn't the answer. Self harm isn't. Violence isn't. Sex isn't. Drugs aren't. I'm more than happy to talk to you about it.
I'm a black guy that thinks asian women are some of the most beautiful women in the world but I don't know how to approach them
I've been reading through these confessions to see if I could relate to any of them but I can't. I'm at a point where I don't care about anything at all, when I get out of bed in the morning I don't care whether I come back at night. The only thing keeping me from suicide is the memory of caring deeply about my friends and family, and the objective knowledge that my death would hurt them. All the people in this part of confesster have serious, valid issues brought about by rejection or familial abuse, and I have nothing of the sort. I have a job, a home, a caring family, access to food and water, plenty of money... I have everything, and still I feel nothing. I've tried helping people, but I just don't feel anything when doing it or after doing it. I carried a pregnant woman's shopping bags a mile and when I was done I felt nothing. I could have kicked her into the gutter and robbed her and felt exactly the same. I don't feel sad. I don't feel happy. I don't feel hopeful, I don't feel hopeless. I just don't feel.
I've tried talking to a therapist, but that did nothing. Nobody else knows this; I've been pretending to be cheerful, pretending to feel happy, feel sad, feel at all! Around my friends and family for two years now, and I'm just so tired of it. It's all I really feel. I'm stuck in an endless rut of work, eat and sleep, and no matter how much I sleep, how much I change, how much I do, I'm never anything other than tired.
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