im so disconnected from myself. Is this what I get for living in my head for my entire life? Don't ask me what my hobbies are, as I will come up with a painfully obvious lie to make up for the fact that all I do is rot in bed. I do like watching shows and films, but don't ask me what those medias are. Half of the time I don't care what I throw on. if it's not a hyperfixation, it's usually something for background noise or something I can turn my brain off to while I stare at the screen. I'm not an interesting person in the slightest. I do not have any hobbies, no sports, I have no friends and therefore talk to nobody, I don't read (yes im an idiot, sue me), i listen to the same music and have disorganized playlists, I don't even play any video games. Nothing interests me at all. I'm so bored all the time, but everything feels like a chore. Really all i look forward to is sleeping. The one hobby I used to love and do everyday was art, but I've been burntout for years. I was never really good at it anyways. I'm sure I've regressed in skill at this point too. I wonder what it's like to not have such a painfully mind-numbingly ache of boredom and emptiness sitting in my chest everyday.

I don't want to turn 20. Letting myself even get to 18 was a mistake. How stupid of me to believe it was actually going to get better. Being miserable during my teen years should've been a sign and yet I didn't listen to myself. I have nothing to show for my age at all. I have 3 weeks left until I'm forced into adulthood. I feel sick.

I don't like school. I was only ever "good" at it because of pattern recognition and I aced my english and art classes, but I never properly learned how to study. This didn't start to bite me in the ass until I got to highschool but I was too checked out to care. Now I'm in college and its affecting me bad, but I also don't care. I'm a walking contradiction, really. I say I don't care but then I fall behind and start failing, and suddenly the world is ending. And yet I do nothing about it. I know I cannot live like this--dropping classes when things get tough or just letting myself fail--and that I'm wasting my life, but ugh. Do I even want a degree anymore? I began my second-start semester last week and I'm already failing a class because i missed two discussion post due to my ass sleep schedule and procrastination. I don't even like the class, I don't like any class because I don't like school. I'm just ready for life to be over. Some people just aren't born with that drive to try, I'm one of them. The least god (or whatever) could do is give me a free pass out of here.

I'm so scared all of the time. The idea of aging has started to frighten me more often these days. It's not really a fear about physically aging or my appearance, but more so the idea that everything around me is changing and I don't even realize it. What do you mean 10, 20, and eventually 30 years will pass by and I won't even notice? I don't like that. I don't like that I have to do this everyday and somehow not get tired of it. Older generations make it look so easy, but I'm already so burnt out. Everytime I think about the past, whether I was alive or not, I feel uneasy. I think about the people who've passed long before I was born. How was life for them during their era? How did people feeling the same way cope? Would I be happier had I been born in an earlier time? And it's weird because I never thought I'd be someone who'd worry over this. Maybe it's because I turned 20? I just want to stay inside my room forever. It's childish...but I guess I really don't want to grow up.

im so lonely I often think it might kill me

I don't think I will ever be able to make friends again. I was never good at it anyways. Most of my old friendships were formed simply because I was already alone and someone else happened to also be alone so we clinged to one another. By highschool I realized that despite being in a friend group, I was never truly understood by anyone and I romanticized the idea of cutting everyone off once I graduated. Since instagram is the only way anyone outside of my house can contact me, I decided to remove most of them from my following/followers and keep only 2. But I don't speak to any of them anyways. They're only still there because they were the nicest to me and I couldn't just let them all go. It's been almost two years since having any friends or any type of consistent deep interaction with people outside my home. It eats away at me almost everyday now but I refuse to feel the way I did in highschool. Highschool almost killed me. I'm terribly lonely though, despite never admitting it irl. I see people my age on social media and outside hanging out with their groups, making memories, enjoying their youth, having a bestfriend to fall back on, genuinely being loved for existing; and I just look away because if I even hold my glance for longer than 5 seconds, I'd end up staring straight at them wondering why that can't be me. It's gotten to the point where my brain has deluded me into thinking I don't want friends in general. That making friends is too much work (except it is for me) and that it will never last. I've spent so long being alone and feeling lonely that I no longer want company. It's like my brain has been in so much agony that the agony has started consuming itself. I love my isolation but I also hate it. I want connections and friends, but I also don't want any of that. Because in the end, no matter who I'm around or whoever does their best to even make me feel included, I will always feel like there's a glass wall between me and everyone else. I mean there naturally is in a way anyways since I'm autistic. And I couldn't bare the thought of having friend drama or god forbid a friendship fall out. I ghosted my old friends instead of talking to them and even then, when I was first thinking about it, it made me anxious. I know it's unhealthy and things can change, but I kind of have made peace with the idea that I will never have true friends. It's not much of an acceptance, more like just me giving up. Maybe one day, but I highly doubt it considering all I do is stay in my room and have a bad habit of maladaptive daydreaming. Whenever I have tried socializing with people, I never really start it. It's always happened when--the most recent examples in my life being when I'm at community college--someone walks up to me or someone in class decides to strike up a conversation. I'm extremely awkward and don't know how to hold the conversation. Often times I end up using the same basic responses and feeling nothing for the other person, because nothing was deep about our interaction. And then the conversation ends with me feeling frustrated and unsatisfied with myself. I'm either anxious or empty. Sometimes the idea of interacting with others irritates me because I know there will be no spark and I feel like I'm wasting my time. Like I can predict the entire conversation or the vibe of how it will go. And I'm usually right. I tend to get uncomfortable and it shows up as me being monotone and barely responding back/dry responses. Even when I'm carefree, it still doesn't translate properly on my face or body language. I'm just left feeling bad for the other person because I might've ruined their drive to make friends in college. Anyways I have more fun in my fantasies and online than in real life honestly. Not a flex, just being real about me.

I don't think I was made to be human. Since I was a kid I've always wanted to be something else. Maybe sentient but not in this body. I'd often pretend to be an animal or some fictional character from a TV show I enjoyed. Or I'd use my dolls and roleplay, creating my own scenarios and spending hours in my room just talking to myself. When I was bored and stuck in one spot against my own will (for example, school), I'd daydream. Everything was a warning from my own soul to leave. To escape while I still could, while I was still youthful and naive. I wouldn't have any regrets then, no awareness. Maybe death would've accepted me gently. When I was 7 years old I almost drowned in a pool during my cousin's birthday. While under there, it didn't come to mind that my situation could kill me, just that my hands couldn't find anything to grab onto and that the pressure on my chest from holding my breath was starting to hurt. Another relative, bless her heart, dived in and swam me back to the edge where I coughed and cried for 30 minutes. Now, all I can think about is how I wished I died. If said relative took just a few minutes longer to get to me, I could've at least blacked out and make my situation more dire. It's selfish, but it's true. That was July of 2013, and a month later I'd start the second grade at a brand new school district that would ultimately be the start to me hating school entirely and becoming depressed. Because of that, I'd like to think that I truly died at 7, and that my physical body has been living in hell since. Or maybe I went into a coma at some point in my life, or perhaps fell asleep and have been stuck in an awful dream that my body has yet to register. I just think that if I weren't sentient, I'd be much happier. How unfair is it to be the "lucky one" of a sperm count and be put into a crappy vessel that has to participate in society and work, while other non-human life forms get to live in peace? They don't know what relationships are, what school is, the idea of a job or taxes are. They don't have to be anything really. They just live by their own rules. They have natural freedom. A freedom that only non-human life can achieve because there aren't any human expectations put onto them. I've always wanted that. I feel so trapped. My soul belongs somewhere else, I just know it does.