Writer's Block (aka HELP ME)

So I'm having a bit of writer's block tonight. I'm sure it'll clear up in a few minutes, and this will be another massive tome of a post, though. It's strange. I could never write when I was younger, yet here I'm writing posts that I could modify into decent college essays.

So here's what I'm feeling this second:
I'm down.
Not sad, exactly, just down.
I'm a fuck-up.
Lonely.
Not much going on in my life. Both in the sense of just always working, nothing else, and in the sense of nothing much positive right now.
I miss Shayne.
That's not true, I miss women.
No, I miss women, but Shayne in particular.
I want her to hold me, I want to go to sleep with her, I want to be spending Christmas with her.
These aren't healthy feelings.
Too bad, they're there and they're not going away.
I should check her facebook.
Fight the urge!...

I miss being cared for, I miss feeling loved.

It's so dull to have these feelings
So trite
It's so unhealthy to criticize your feelings
You have no control over them
And yet they're pathetic
And repetitive
And pointless
Like quite a bit of my life
Oh stop
It's true...
Just a bit...
Well, enough

You know why I'm so awkward? (PS: how in the hell did Steve get that label and not me? Maybe because I never hung around those guys. I never took advantage of the fact that there were people who enjoyed being around me until it was too late. But that's for another day)

Sorry for the digression. So you know why I'm so awkward? Because I'm constantly second guessing myself. I'm never surprised or upset about an insult because I've already thought it before. I'm only hurt when somebody says something about me I didn't realize. Like Rui, at work, calling me herpes face because of a scratch on my upper lip. I hadn't even thought of that angle. Fat? Lazy? Stupid? Awkward? I don't care, I know that. I didn't realize my lip looked like it had herpes. Damn.

It probably started with Jackie. After she rejected me, I began to criticize every single action or choice of mine, figuring I was doing something wrong, and that I could improve myself into becoming attractive. I guess I never stopped, really. It's why I'm paranoid -- those people, they're looking at me, they're laughing. What am I doing? Must be this. I'll change it.

The change, of course, ends up feeling weird, and boom, awkward Joe. Effeminete? I'll act manly. Fat? I'll flex my muscles, tuck in my stomach. Dress poorly? I'll just become so nervous next time I go clothes shopping I'll freeze as soon as I enter the store and end up just buying a bunch of stuff I don't need. In the mean time I'll stop wearing that shirt. I have a whole bunch of stuff in my closet I never wear specifically because I've decided it's not good enough. Not for me, but for others.

I'm always saying I'm sorry. All the time. It never stops. Because nearly every action I do requires an apology. My existence requires apology, at times. I have apologized for being present before.

Damn. With an attitude like that, no wonder I'm depressed. I hate myself. Adjectives I believe describe myself:
Intelligent
Cocky
Fat
Lazy
Awkward
Effeminate
Unattractive
Stubborn
Loud
Naive
Overconfident, at times (mostly to compensate)
low Self-Esteem
Sad
Pathetic
Mama's Boy
Helpless
Destined to have his dreams crushed
Alone
stereotypical "Nice guy"
always a best friend, never a boyfriend
Shitty Listener
Self-centered
Arrogant
Jackassy (at times)


All I want is some answers. All I've ever wanted is some answers.

Which of these are true? False? What do I need to change about myself? How do I do that?

What do I need to do to make you people like me? Respect me? Love me? Not want to vomit at the thought of touching me?

What do I need to do?

Because I would do anything. Even just to know, for certain, which of these is false.

God help me, I've even begun to look into religion.

Probably if I respected myself, if I liked myself, if I loved myself, you would to. I know in my head I'm worthy of these things, I just don't feel it, don't believe it.

I want guidance. I want help. I want it all to go away. I want to feel better. I didn't think these things after Ned Lamont. I thought I was the shit. Attractive enough, and dammit, I had just kicked Joe Lieberman's ass! Collecting my first paycheck felt great, and I was touring some damn fine schools to attend next year. I was gonna get into UChicago! Hell, I was well on my way.

That's why Shayne loved me then, and not now. I don't love myself like I did then. And if I don't have enough love for myself, I have none leftover for her.

So what do I do? How can I love myself when I'm like this? This isn't lovable. I have NO pride left.

It's been one looong downhill slide for me since Ned Lamont, and I'm back right where I started. Insecure, ashamed of myself, fat and ugly.

God help me, please. Something. Relieve me of this pain inside. Make me love myself again. Show me the way. Help me learn to love life again, to welcome and cherish each day. Help me. Anyone reading this, God, Jesus, Buddha, Shayne, Pat, Steve, Liz, somebody, someone, HELP ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Note to reader: Consider the above a cry for help. By issuing said cry, Joe avoids giving himself a concussion or otherwise harming himself.

Note to reader: Like I said, I apologize to everything, so I want to apologize. I know it's been three months, I know your all sick of my bitching about the same shit each day, wanting help. But I need it. I need to know somebody loves me besides my mom, that I'm loveable, and I need to learn how to respect myself. HELP ME.