Mar 02, 2008 8:16 AM GMT
Hello. My name is Alex.
Okay.
I HATE MY LIFE.
There, I said it.
I HATE EVERYTHING ABOUT IT.
The most significant change in my life was my decision to go back to college after three years. I felt that there were things that needed to be resolved. I decided to embark on a transfer program. I wanted to participate in the MBA creative writing program at San Francisco State University, and to transfer there I had to complete seven required classes (I had done the bulk of them en route to my AA). My family TOLERATED my decision. You know what that means? They didn't want me to go, but they allowed me to do it anyway. What the fuck is that? After three years of failing at finding a job and struggling to endure my family's general disapproval of my life, one would think that they would be happy for me. But NO.
And it hasn't seemed like CCSF has welcomed me back with open arms. I recently completed my fall semester, and in retrospect, it was the worst time that I have ever spent in college. My only enjoyment came from my German class and my creative writing class. The rest were hell, especially my American history and speech classes, which were dominated by FUCKING HETEROSEXUAL WHITE GOOD-OLD BOYS FROM HELL. I'm sorry, but that's what they were. You may have experienced them in your day-to-day lives. I struggled to keep my financial aid in check. I struggled to make it to class on time. (I'm in my spring semester now, and I'm struggling to keep up with studying.)
I sought counseling on campus. For eight weeks, I saw a lovely counselor in the student health center. Unfortunately, per school regulations those eight weeks were the only time that was allotted to me; not nearly enough. She was a nice, patient, and understanding lady, but she wasn't enough. So, she referred me to a counseling center on Church Street. I went there for the intake, paid the $25 fee, and foolishly hoped that this would be the beginning. But when I arrived for our first full session, no one was there. I waited in the waiting room for over an hour. No one told me a thing, and it seemed that they didn't care. So, I quit. I didn't want to, but I had no choice.
I still live with my family, and things are getting worse. We just lost the house in an auction held by the City of Vallejo. The current housing crisis notwithstanding, I blame myself because I couldn't find a job to help my family keep the house, no matter how hard I tried. In addition, all my relatives are spending a lot of time at the house. My younger brother, who is in the Navy and who can do no wrong in my parents' eyes (though before he joined the Navy he was a wild kid who beat me up regularly and did speed and crack) has visited us from time to time and continues to harass me something awful. My aunts from San Diego are visiting long-term. My dad is retiring in May. I can't take living at home anymore.
I tried to kill myself in late September. My family doesn't know about this. I attempted to jump off the Golden Gate Bridge, but I chickened out. I don't know what was worse: the fact that I tried to do it, or the fact that I failed. Failing at suicide meant that I had failed in the long run. If I couldn't take my own life, then how would I be able to take control of my life?
Everyday, I try to assure myself that I am a good person. But it doesn't work. I feel like the worst person on Earth somedays. I feel like I don't matter, and that I never mattered at all. Everyone else is, for lack of a better example, China or Russia or the USA and I'm fucking Liechtenstein or Tuvalu or Sao Tome and Principe.
It's been the worst year of my life, and I fear that no matter how proactive I get, 2008 will even be worse. I can't seem to do anything right.
Okay.
I HATE MY LIFE.
There, I said it.
I HATE EVERYTHING ABOUT IT.
The most significant change in my life was my decision to go back to college after three years. I felt that there were things that needed to be resolved. I decided to embark on a transfer program. I wanted to participate in the MBA creative writing program at San Francisco State University, and to transfer there I had to complete seven required classes (I had done the bulk of them en route to my AA). My family TOLERATED my decision. You know what that means? They didn't want me to go, but they allowed me to do it anyway. What the fuck is that? After three years of failing at finding a job and struggling to endure my family's general disapproval of my life, one would think that they would be happy for me. But NO.
And it hasn't seemed like CCSF has welcomed me back with open arms. I recently completed my fall semester, and in retrospect, it was the worst time that I have ever spent in college. My only enjoyment came from my German class and my creative writing class. The rest were hell, especially my American history and speech classes, which were dominated by FUCKING HETEROSEXUAL WHITE GOOD-OLD BOYS FROM HELL. I'm sorry, but that's what they were. You may have experienced them in your day-to-day lives. I struggled to keep my financial aid in check. I struggled to make it to class on time. (I'm in my spring semester now, and I'm struggling to keep up with studying.)
I sought counseling on campus. For eight weeks, I saw a lovely counselor in the student health center. Unfortunately, per school regulations those eight weeks were the only time that was allotted to me; not nearly enough. She was a nice, patient, and understanding lady, but she wasn't enough. So, she referred me to a counseling center on Church Street. I went there for the intake, paid the $25 fee, and foolishly hoped that this would be the beginning. But when I arrived for our first full session, no one was there. I waited in the waiting room for over an hour. No one told me a thing, and it seemed that they didn't care. So, I quit. I didn't want to, but I had no choice.
I still live with my family, and things are getting worse. We just lost the house in an auction held by the City of Vallejo. The current housing crisis notwithstanding, I blame myself because I couldn't find a job to help my family keep the house, no matter how hard I tried. In addition, all my relatives are spending a lot of time at the house. My younger brother, who is in the Navy and who can do no wrong in my parents' eyes (though before he joined the Navy he was a wild kid who beat me up regularly and did speed and crack) has visited us from time to time and continues to harass me something awful. My aunts from San Diego are visiting long-term. My dad is retiring in May. I can't take living at home anymore.
I tried to kill myself in late September. My family doesn't know about this. I attempted to jump off the Golden Gate Bridge, but I chickened out. I don't know what was worse: the fact that I tried to do it, or the fact that I failed. Failing at suicide meant that I had failed in the long run. If I couldn't take my own life, then how would I be able to take control of my life?
Everyday, I try to assure myself that I am a good person. But it doesn't work. I feel like the worst person on Earth somedays. I feel like I don't matter, and that I never mattered at all. Everyone else is, for lack of a better example, China or Russia or the USA and I'm fucking Liechtenstein or Tuvalu or Sao Tome and Principe.
It's been the worst year of my life, and I fear that no matter how proactive I get, 2008 will even be worse. I can't seem to do anything right.
