I Am Am Awful Person

This is long and poorly written. Don't read it if you don't want to. But if you do, for god's sake please just say something. Anything.


And I just feel like I am an awful person for the things that I do. Why do I feel this way? I don’t know. Why am I so angry at everything. It’s so hard to say what I want to say, it only comes to me in bits and pieces. I could have accomplished so much, and why didn’t I? Jealousy? Do I just not have the moxy?

I forget how old I was, but it was in middle school. All I wanted to do was be an artist. I wanted to draw comics for the newspaper, like Bill Watterson. I loved Calvin and Hobbes. Everyone does though.

But she was better. She knew how to draw. All my life, I drew and drew and drew and I loved it and I never thought to stop and think how bad my drawings were until I saw hers. They were on display in the lobby, right behind the front doors to the school so everyone that walked in would see them. And they were beautiful? How old were we? I can’t even remember. We couldn’t have  been older than nine or ten, or maybe we were but STILL how can someone be that good when they are that young? How could we have both been drawing for the same amount of time she was so much BETTER than me. They were beautiful. Amazing. I would of loved them if they were done by someone I didn’t know. But I did know her, and I wanted it to be my drawings up on the wall. I wanted people to see them and talk about how good I was.

I hated sports. All of them. I was so bad at it, but I didn’t care. I don’t even remember why I played them. Did my parents make me? Maybe, I seem to recall that they did but they’ve been such good parents. They would never force me to do anything I didn’t want to. So why was I doing it? Why was I standing in the outfield, picked flowers while the ball whizzed right by me? Why was I standing in the middle of the soccer field in the middle of t his game? I didn’t even know what position I played. ****, I don’t even know HOW to play this game. What am I doing here?

Why are they making fun of me? I don’t get it. What did I do? I never understood it. I must be weird. I don’t get it. They must have a reason for it. But at least I have some friends. I am hanging out with my friend and we are walking by the baseball field. Wait. Why is this other kid pulling my friend aside. Maybe I can hear what he is saying…

“Why are you hanging out with this kid?”

I guess he didn’t know because we’re not friends anymore.

They won’t stop making fun of me. Or are they? Are they just playing. I know I shouldn’t of given in. I shouldn’t have let it bother me. Maybe if I had taken what they said in stride, recognized it as a joke, poked fun at them as well. Maybe we could have been friends. Maybe I could have been cool. Why didn’t I? It’s too late now.

Why did I start to believe the things that they said?

DRAWING. I try sometimes. I still do. I realize now that all I need is practice. But she’s still there, and she’s still amazing. Amazing and weird and quirky and weird and so different and she should have been made fun of too but EVERYONE LOVES HER. They think she is weird, but they love her for it. And she does art projects, drawing sweeping landscapes and dragons and fairies and they look so good and everyone loves them and I can’t get this hand to look right. This guys facial expression is all ****** up. I forgot to draw the neck. I can’t draw hair. I can’t do anything.

Why did I say the things that I said and act the way I did?

I meet some people. I like them a lot. I think they are cool. The way they dress, the music they listen to, the things they do. And they are weird like me! Finally, someone I can relate with. We like the same things.

But they don’t like me.

I know this because I try to talk to them and get blank stares and one word answers. And they all travel in packs and they have fun adventures and do things, and if they aren’t doing that they are smoking things and talking about music or movies or books or politics or ART and all the other things I like to talk about, but I can’t TALK ABOUT THEM because they know so much more than me, I get lost, I forget the subject. I don’t know.

And they take pictures. They are all over facebook. Pictures of them at a party or a fun dinner or a movie or a hike or just doing random things and I am not in most of them. Those that I am in… my face is red and puffy, my smile is crooked, I look like a retarded person. And I am almost always alone… in the background. I don’t think they meant to take a picture of me at all.

Sometimes they are nice… sometimes they invite me along, and sometimes I just go where they go and pretend like I belong. I sit at the shiny gold tables and drink coffee staring out the window when I am not staring at them, talking and laughing, looking at photos on facebook. They talk about what they were doing when the picture was taken. I wasn’t there though, so I listen.

And they pass around the bowl to everyone else in the room but me, in fact, it gets passed right in front of my face to the person standing next to me. I come in last in the card game and no one cares… I win and they don’t care. I want to be like them so bad.

How come I can’t go out and draw pictures that people want to look at? How come no one takes pictures of me? How come I can’t play sports and everyone makes fun of me and I FEEL SO STUPID because I hate them so much and all I wish is that they would be my friend. For real. Someone who will talk to me. Someone who will laugh with me. Someone who doesn’t get pissy when I ask to bum a smoke even though I give them out like candy.

And this guy… this ******* hipster. And this girl… this wonderful girl. She is amazing. I relate to her more than anyone I’d ever met. Do I love her? No. I don’t do love anymore. I am just very strongly attracted to her.

But this GUY. He has her. He already did, even before I met her but it’s not fair because they are so perfect together and he makes her feel good about herself, the way I try to do even though I hate myself. And this guy is such an ******* because he listens to awesome music and is successful and people like him even though he is WEIRD and I hate his ******* scarf. I wish I had a scarf. I wish I could wear one without feeling stupid.

I want to die, but I don’t want to kill myself. Why bother? If I wait long enough, nature will take care of that for me. And there is time yet. But no one wants to help. No one cares. I am still the shy, weird kid who can’t play sports that I always was. Even though I pretend they are my friends and take their abuse and I believe the things that they say and I am STUPID.

I’m not good at anything. I am a waste of a human being. I see them get sad, and I know what it feels like. I know what it is like to be sad. I try to comfort them, to show them that it’s not all bad. Afterall, I’ve lived my whole life in the background of photos, and I’m doing fine, right? But they don’t want to talk to me.

They want this other person to. This person who dresses the right way and says the right things and makes them laugh and cry and then they hug and they are such good friends and I want to be this person. I want this person to come help me. I want someone to see. I want someone to understand.

But no one wants to.

They laugh when I try to be friends. Not a malicious laugh. I pitying one. They know I am different, and they know I am trying too hard to be different the way THEY are. I don’t want my different. I want their different. I want something.

I do have friends… real friends. They would probably even understand too. If I told them. But I can’t tell anyone. Because as soon as you tell anyone anything… well I don’t know. Every time I’ve tried, it gets brushed away, as if they hadn’t even heard. As if they don’t want to hear.

Everyone is better than me, because they figured it out. They figured out how to be weird and quirky and different from everyone else, and still get people to like them. They are weird in a good way.

And I’m just weird.

But I still can’t figure  out how. I wish I could see myself from someone else’s perspective. To see exactly what they think, and why? Do I do things that offend them? Am I annoying?

They’ve been saying it for years! It must be true! How could it not be!? How could everyone I know everywhere I go think the same thing? It just can’t be coincidence.

It must mean that I am a bad person.

nodobyspecial nodobyspecial
18-21, M
15 Responses Feb 17, 2010

You're not bad, you're just confused and misunderstood. I know how you feel. I can relate.
And Im sure a lot of other people can too. We are a sum of our emotions and emotions are tricky things. But trust me when I tell you that all these people you think have got it all figured out suffer from the same nervousness and uncertainty that you do. Its a part of life.
That said, I know we still feel what we feel, and sometimes it takes over our being so much that we feel completely helpless under its weight. Im sure this happens to you too.
Please relax. You are not a bad person.
You are not alone. You are not unloved.
Remember that.
We all care about you.
And whenever you feel that feeling taking over just talk, I'll be here to listen.
or if you just wanna talk or vent or whatever, I'll listen.

Wow, this in itself is just an amazing piece of writing! You may struggle with your art but your emotions come through so loud and clearly in your writing so maybe you should focus on this area just as much as your drawing. I read Catcher in the Rye a couple of years ago and his writing just blew me away as it was written in the same kind of honest chatty style like this and basically an autopsy of all his insecurities and feelings just as you have done here, but the truly beautiful thing about this stuff is that you will one day realise you are not alone in feeling this way, almost every normal teenager does, but they learn to deal with it in different ways.
I had THE most extrovert friend in college who was always partying and stealing the limelight, so much that me being a quiet and insecure person envied her but on the days we were alone together she would confess she hated to be alone with her own thoughts, as they scared her, and her feeling that nobody was interested in her any more scared her just as much. This girl I respected so much couldn't even go and buy a pencil without having to drop by my class and ask me to go with her, so amused though I was to know this I also realised she was just as insecure as I was, but in different ways.

I've been an artist and comic writer for years and it's always given me a lot of pleasure, and as a child it was the one thing I could always impress everyone else with either at home or in school, college. I didn't have to worry about what they thought of me out on the sports field (I was crap too! lol) or that I was useless at music and French because I always had that respect for my art and just as your friend has. But having said that I've always looked to those who are better than me still for inspiration and guidance, normally just by studying their art and asking questions. One thing that would impress this girl more than anything would be a guy who shows he is impressed with her art and what it means to her. I guess she gets that anyway but maybe she is not so hot on writing and that's something most successful comics have, a really good artist and a really good writer. In my experience reasonable to very good artists are in plenty good writers are harder to come by because it's not just about writing stories, but making them real by adding interesting observations and emotional content. You have that!

Show the world a happy confident face and do your own thing regardless of what others think and your conviction and dedication alone will make them respect you as an individual and not someone who tags along waiting for a pat on the head now and then.

you're not a bad person. God bless. Hug hug

I know exactly how you feel. Replace "creative writing" with "drawing" and I know exactly how you feel. Maybe there's some solace in knowing that the world is filled with people who feel like exactly like this. And maybe those numbers even add up to the point where you could say that these feelings are normal human emotions. That how we feel is part of normal living. And maybe that makes the discomfort a little less daunting and we can then move on to doing things that we enjoy without worrying about how they look to other people? I know it's a tall order, but in a strange way I find it really nice to find someone who knows exactly how I feel.

I came here today to make myself feel more horrible.reading this I feel I can relate and I know it hurts.sometimes I feel like I can't do anything.I know I can't.it's funny that it doesn't matter.everybody hates me.it's so awful.I further my pain by explaining my life like this.to me,I know I must suffer.who else to take it all but me?

please dont give up stay strong

Wow, you sound so tortured, I feel so bad for you. <br />
You need to find out what you really like and do it. Through this you will find friendship, happiness, direction and a purpose.<br />
<br />
Stop trying to be something you aren't just because you think it's cool to be that way.<br />
<br />
Your writing was somewhat poetic, perhaps writing is one of you talents. <br />
<br />
Concentrate on yourself and what you think, not what you think others want you to be.<br />
It will all come into place.<br />
<br />
Not sure of your age, but I am guessing middleschool to highschool. This is a very tuff time for some kids. <br />
set small goals for yourself, and each time you reach one you will feel better about yourself.<br />
<br />
All the Best !

Sometimes all you need to do is tell someone, tell someone new. <br />
<br />
Just tell the next person you meet, you need a friend and thats all. <br />
<br />
It's easier than you think, once you've said it. Just come out and say it!

Well, you've said it all. Now what are you going to do with it?? Are you going to wait for one of thsoe guys to rescue you and tell you you are not weird? Are you waiting for the girl to step out of your dreams and into your heart? Are you waiting to be an artist?<br />
Of course not, I do not mean to be mean, but I know those thoughts, I own those thoughts. I have them all the time. I let them visit me and then let them leave. You my friend are clinging to them.<br />
That's okay, because you will figure it out. People who walk this planet alone, figure things out. They get it together. The most difficult part: getting validation for what we've chosen.<br />
I know. Validation is not the same when it comes up from within, especially when someone comes by and says you are doing it all wrong -- whatever it is. <br />
Imagine: the person who invalidates your personal likes, wants, needs, well they are flat out wrong.<br />
Are you willing to attach yourself to one of your dreams?<br />
Do you want to do art? I mean hey, look at those cartoon pages in the paper or on-line, I can draw better than most of, well some of them. What the have is a story to share and they share it the best they can.<br />
YOU CAN SHARE: you just proved it to me buddy! Good job! Well done!<br />
Have you read some really good books -- the best is a story about a depressed teenager written by JD Salinger. He did not want to write anything after that book because he thought that people and fame would ruin his life. He just died. All he wanted to do in life was write. So I am sure that the 40 years that he did not publish, he still wrote. JD Saliger: Catcher In the Rye.<br />
Another really good book written by a person who only wrote this one book: To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee. Harper's life story is great too, but she did not want all these people crowding around her. It made her feel small, picked on, she shunned interviews. Her book is in 17 or more different languages; they made a movie out of it and I bought the audio book version and listened to it on my trip to South Dakota - perfect story. It is so very good. Inspiring.<br />
You can do anything you want.<br />
Do not let yourself or anyone else talk you out of it.<br />
Yes, one day death will knock on your door. At that time I hope you stare at death and say, wait one more minute, I have a picture to finish drawing.<br />
Love your dreams.<br />
Love yourself.<br />
Embrace life.<br />
Someone will share it with you. Even if you have to invite them to do so.<br />
You invited me to read your story. I read it. Thank you for extending the invitation. May you always extend such kindness to strangers.<br />
Do it!

remember you are not alone

First of all, you are not nobody. You are somebody, a person with thoughts and feelings and real emotions. And I believe you are somebody with talent to write. I know that right now there doesn't seem to be anywhere to go to get rid of the depression that is eating at your mind, body, and soul. Writing can be cathartic and freeing, and it seems to be a good way for you to express yourself. I bet if you let one of the friends you mentioned read your feelings like I just have, you will find that you have more support than you ever believed. I am not going to tell you how I know how you feel, or that I have felt the way you are feeling, because even if I can identify with your feelings at the moment, you are still unique and saying I know what it's like will not really help. What I will say is that I once I was in a place from which I thought there was no escaping, but eventually a light did show itself. One light, then another, then another, and soon the darkness begins to fade with more and more certainty.<br />
Writing can help push away that dark place. Maybe you could find a creative writing group or class that can help you pursue it even further. You are more valuable than you know or believe. You have very real pain, but you don't have to endure it alone. Don't lose more of yourself before you believe in yourself.

have you ever considered writing? just collect your thoughts and i think youll go far

PS you aren't an aweful person.<br />
<br />
You sound like a person who has a lot of feelings and thoughts that no one ever takes the time to listen to ... people can be so cruel and uncaring.

Wow. <br />
You have a lot of pain inside of you.

:(<br />
<br />
message me if you ever need sombody to talk to