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after such an announcement, I expected something more than "I'm tired, nothing makes sense." Maybe you should try a career in advertising?
The first problem in writing out the wall of text I planned is the difficulty of determining the order in which to start laying the bricks. Well, perhaps we'll start with a psychological portrait.
Loser Mindset
Fortunately, I don't have Vietnamese flashbacks from my school years, but that time can in no way be called pleasant. The reasons are very trivial: I couldn't get along with my animal-like classmates. I was lucky—I survived those years without broken legs or heads smashed against concrete walls, as happened to other kids (the second case is especially interesting: you'd think, why do that? The answer is simple: why not, just for fun, the animals enjoyed it). Anyway, the atmosphere was very foul; I had no motivation to go to school. Only a fool would want to walk into the fire gladly. I started skipping and, accordingly, stopped doing homework and studying altogether. Here is another interesting point—the teachers (so-called pedagogues, although it would be more appropriate to call them "pidagogues"—a mix of faggots and gogis from the heroes games) began to perceive me as trash. Like, a schoolboy skips classes, does nothing, it's obvious his problem is that he's an idiot. This proves that when I switched to homeschooling in 11th grade, the few teachers who decided to show up (others ignored me, gave me failing grades without even attending classes, and still received extra pay) admitted to my mother that they expected to work with a moron, but in reality, I turned out to be quite a smart kid. Another instance with the educators was when I was sitting in the headteacher's office, being threatened with expulsion, and when I started smiling (due to nerves), some thug in a teacher's suit snapped at me, like "what the f*ck are you smiling here for?". Well, not exactly like that, but in that spirit.
To put it more briefly, I got practically nothing from my school years—neither discipline, nor the ability to manage my time properly, nor, of course, knowledge (though I doubt I would have gotten it anyway, since teachers with double-digit IQs won't teach anything special). As for "friends" (their absence), of course, I don't give a damn; that's exactly what I don't regret at all. In 8 years of hermitry (well, not counting colleges, jobs, etc.), I never once suffered from the lack of IRL acquaintances (I literally didn't communicate with anyone except my cousin during his episodic visits; to the rest of the city, I was always a ghost). And in general, all my friends are on ХВ :cool:.
Let's forget about school and move on to colleges. The first thing I want to mention is the terrible high school diploma that became a stigma for me for the rest of my life (even if I had scored maximum points on all state assessment exams, I still wouldn't have been able to get into a decent university for free) and... the Ukrainian language. There's a little point here: I truly always considered forced Ukrainization absurd (fact: only one out of my ~90 classmates spoke Ukrainian in everyday life), but after many, many years, I came to the conclusion that I was wrong about something. Specifically, that objectively knowing, for example, Russian, Ukrainian, and English is better than knowing only Russian and English (of course, ideally I would prefer to know completely different languages instead). This is obvious. But before, I, of course, thought differently. The problem was this—I lived in a Russian-speaking and patriotic (towards Russia) family, where it was accepted to believe that the Russian language is awesome, and Ukrainian is sh*t. Well, this bit me very hard when I enrolled in Japanese studies (at 17). You might ask—what's the connection? The fact that besides my terrible organization (I could never manage my time properly and still can't to this day), my lack of preparation for dormitory life (quite curious—I had no social problems, even the opposite—there were people who could have easily become my friends had I continued studying; here I mean domestic chores like cooking), the lion's share of materials and lectures were delivered in Ukrainian, including some professors who also forced us to answer in it. And I didn't know it because of my Great Russian stubbornness (which stayed with me until around age 19). So, that's an immediate huge plus to the difficulty. After that, it was quite simple—I got sick for a couple of weeks, fell behind, and gave up. That year became the first time I lost hope for the future. Back then, I already understood that nothing awaited me in this life.
The following year I enrolled again—this time in history and in my own city. I don't remember how it went, but mainly I did it just so people would leave me the f*ck alone. You understand, a young man isn't working, so they need to pick his brain. At the time, I liked history as a subject, but in any case, I never wanted to tie my life to it (and even less so go on archaeological expeditions to harvest potatoes in nearby villages). Regardless, I left this university behind without any regrets. Moreover, besides my own unwillingness, there were various unpleasant moments. For example, I told you once: I learned the material by heart, but wrote very sloppily and uglily; female classmates read from notebooks but got higher grades—episodes like that really pissed me off back then—like, why do people come here to study—to gain knowledge or to waste paper? In short, a useless university.
The next year after that, I enrolled again, this time in English—via correspondence. For a freshman idiot, I knew English very well (thanks to games, kinsu, and the English-speaking internet), but the other mandatory subjects quickly bored me and I left again; I didn't even want to make the minimum effort to "learn" something so useless and uninteresting.
Well, as you can see—I was fully enjoying my youth, however, things got even better later—serious health problems were added, I ended up in gastroenterology and returned from it as a completely broken person. If after the Japanese university incident I simply lost all hope for the future, then after the hospital, I lost the will to live entirely.
And what else can be said? I interned here and there, took some courses, but never fit in anywhere. And in general, whatever I took up throughout my entire life—everything turned into failure, even things I liked. The most significant such event would be stopping training, and the most recent—when I tried practicing drawing—then bam, I started something new, interesting, and suddenly my hand f*cked up, despite having never bothered me before. And it hurts to this day.
That is, I completely lack faith in my own strength/faith in the possibility that something good will happen to me.
NEET Life
It is quite obvious (at least to me) that my only way to keep my sanity and find pleasure in life was escapism. And while I led it, I could have been considered a more or less satisfied person, if not for my health.
In any case, anime, games, etc.—all of this brought me pleasure, including activity on ХВ—it was a rare opportunity for me to engage in some kind of creative activity, something that not only brought me pleasure but could also please someone else.
Suicide
This point is a direct continuation of the first due to the absence of the second. Well, let's say, thoughts about it existed since I was 18, and after 20, corresponding plans for the future appeared (lol)—like, NEET while possible, and then rip myself off when there's no money for food or health drops to unacceptable limits.
Now, perhaps, it has become the worst. The only factor keeping me here is the possibility of committing this act on any given day and the impossibility of returning after its execution.
City of Evil
The worst (or best) consequence of my arrival here is the return of my old desires and the appearance of new ones. That is, lacking the possibility to return to the second point, I began to dream of something else. And that is the cruelest part, because without money, nothing can be fulfilled.
Strange as it may seem, my overall physical well-being improved over these weeks (I attribute this to revising my diet and returning to training regardless of health problems; I don't know how this will turn out in the foreseeable future) unless, of course, we consider the situation with the kidneys and pancreas—they didn't bother me before (only with not-so-good test results). Mental well-being... Very chaotic and predominantly bad.
Self-Esteem
Always considered myself objective in this regard.
Well then...
No money
No real estate
No profession
No useful skills
Average looks
No health
No redeeming qualities
Likes to reflect
Total: a used subhuman who likes to think.
Unfortunately, you can move to another city, another country, maybe another planet, but not away from yourself.
It's good that I don't care about others' opinions or even my own opinion of myself; it's bad that this puts me in an ultimately disadvantageous position when I think about romance.
Wanna be
Far away from the CIS and, if possible, closer to Asia, preferably Eastern. Due to certain psychological and emotional characteristics that developed in me from around age 15, I grew a very strong love for numerous aspects of Asian culture and the people themselves, while simultaneously feeling exceptional dislike for everything Russian and Soviet. It's not even a matter of objectivity, but rather that it has already become an integral part of me.
Money
That is what would solve most of my problems. I don't want to live better than someone or better than somewhere; I simply want to have the opportunities that money opens up for a person. At the same time, I'm not talking about anything fantastic, just ordinary things, just not by the standards of the region where I live.
But those who read the first point of this small self-analysis can understand why I don't have any and none are foreseen. In general, if you break down my whine about the randomness of life, the only thing that (I think) I could have changed and didn't—was not learning something I could earn money from. Everything else is wretched fate.
Future
On one hand, it's good when you're already at rock bottom—there's nowhere further to sink, but on the other—the deeper you are, the harder it becomes to surface. Without beacons, I don't see where to swim.
Love
I began to desire this very greedily since I lost my NEET life. Mainly due to a selfish desire to find new motivation to live. Well, I wrote earlier:
I need a person whom I would put first in my life, above all, for whom I would gladly return home after a workday, instead of thinking about which of the numerous ways I should part with life. For whom I would personally want to strive to become better, whom I would want to care for with exceptional sincerity in my heart and warmth in my soul.
In any case, even if we discard (or rather—adjust) my long-held dream, the situation doesn't change much, although it becomes slightly more realistic.
And here is such a funny paradox: in order to make tries in this direction, I need money, and I have none; and if I had it, I wouldn't experience such problems to begin with (would probably just keep neeting...).
Conclusion
Life is too hard
Bonus
Not long ago, I got really triggered by one small and extremely funny joke. Out of curiosity, I browsed various dating sites promising love from Asia... Well, based on what I saw and read in reviews—99% of them are scams. Like, you register, it's free at first, and then you pay money for every message? VERY FISHY DON'T YOU THINK. Nevertheless, on one of them I found a Vietnamese girl who interested me very much; the site also promised some days of free access. So I thought, oh well—I lose nothing anyway (don't I??? Big deal, I'll just spend all my money later...) and registered. To which, immediately after filling in all the data and creating an account, I was told SORRY MEN FROM YOUR COUNTRY CAN ONLY USE THIS FOR CASH. IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO PAY PLEASE DELETE YOUR ACCOUNT. And for some reason, I got so triggered by this. No, I mean, it's clear that these sites exist primarily to break the hearts and wallets of naive men looking for their half, but not in this way??? You didn't even give me the chance to feel any hope only to crush it later. I AM SO POOR THAT THEY CAN'T EVEN SCAM ME. WHAT THE FUCK. SERIOUSLY.
...
That was my reaction.
Bonus 2
Some might take me for a pervert, but since I find nothing wrong with acknowledging someone else's beauty... I automatically memorized all the girls of Eastern appearance pleasing to my eye while I was here (a funny advantage over my previous city, where 99% of the population are Slavs; all the funnier that I like mono-national states).
I haven't forgotten anyone!
You should remember the first two (since you're reading this thread...), then there were the following:
Highlighted onee-san. For some reason, I got the impression she was older than me. Although I should question this, since I'm already insecure about my own age, how much older could she be! Anyway, she seemed stylish to me, though her clothes looked cheap. And her face looked as if she could show me what and how to do in life.
Next, as I call her, the denim girl. Well, she was dressed in all denim, strangely enough... Overall a vanilla image, but somehow very attractive.
When eating in one little restaurant, I couldn't help but notice the waitress serving me. There was something wrong with her face (either acne or something similar), but it didn't spoil her much; she still looked stunning. But most importantly—her hands and voice. Hands as if made by God so that I could put a wedding ring on them, and a voice exactly as I need so that I could fall into a sweet sleep at night. This encounter, for some reason, lowered my fighting spirit the most, probably because of the expensiveness of the establishment, which once again reminded me of the modest size of my financial capabilities.
And the sixth, ho-ho, was suddenly a chubby one. And clearly not the kind that some lovers of larger figures among us might like, but she compensated for it with her face. Very pretty, facial features closest to those inherent to the gentle half of the Korean people.
If we discuss who I liked most visually (because how else, yeah heh), I'll name the second one (whom I mentioned last time). Everything about her matched my aesthetic preferences. And if she had loved me too, I could have gone to Antarctica to chip ice for a new pair of shoes for her.