I've posted a few of these over the past 3 or 4 years, and the theme doesn't change much because my life doesn't change. Believe me, I'm just as tired of reading these "pity party" threads as you are, but it helps a little to just throw this kind of stuff out there every once in a while. Sorry. I would consider my life to be shit. I wake up alone every day, drive to work, put in my hours, drive home, make dinner for myself, surf the Internet or watch a movie, go to sleep, and repeat that the next day. When I'm at work, I just want to be home, and when I get home, I want nothing more than to be anywhere else. Weekends are worse, because I don't have work to pass the time. The only way I can get out of the house is to go for an aimless drive every once in a while, but that only kills an hour or two at most, and soon enough I'm back at home. I'm 27 years old and this is what I've done nearly every day of my adult life. You likely consider this an exaggeration, but I assure you it is not. I have no family. I was born to a mother who didn't want children and who reminded me every day how much of a burden it was to pay for a roof over my head and put food in my mouth. Not that she did a very good job of it, as I spent many nights hungry and even had to steal money from her sometimes just to buy food. That is, until I was old enough to get a work permit and a part time job. She was not wealthy, but not poor either. She had plenty of money to go out nearly every night with her friends and go on vacations a few times per year. She never had any problems paying for her own desires, but there was no way I was getting a new $25 pair of jeans when a $0.50 off color patch could just be sewn over that 4" hole in the knee. My father was well meaning, but my mother was awarded custody and what little extra money my father made was taken as court ordered child support. I was able to move in with my father at 17. I have not seen or spoken to my mother since. Fortunately, my father was willing to sign the forms for me to get a driver's permit and then a license. That is something my mother would never consent to. Not because I was a bad, irresponsible kid. I surely was not. I never drank alcohol, did any drugs, shoplifted, vandalized property, or did any other terrible thing that teenagers commonly do. I did well in school too. Anyhow, with the license, I was able to avoid transferring schools by flying under the radar and just commuting 30 miles each way. My father and I never really got along though. We never really talked or did anything together. This was likely because I had learned at a much younger age to fend for myself and was very independent by that time. After high school work was sporadic, but he allowed me to stay rent free because I was honestly trying. About a year and a half out of high school I landed a great job with the company I still work for. I began saving furiously first for my own car, then so I could move out. I bought the car after a couple of months. This is when things between us began accelerating down hill. He was jealous that I was making more money than he ever had and bought a car he had wanted for years. He would try to make me feel guilty often. I did feel guilty sometimes, but I let him drive it when he asked. He only asked a couple of times though. I think his pride got in the way. About six months after I got the job, I came home from work, pulled into the garage, and he stormed out screaming at me. He was shouting that there wasn't enough room between our cars for him to get the garbage can through. I insisted there was, and he became more irate. I backed out, left, and went for a drive. We have not spoken since. I came back late that night to find a note telling me I had a week to move out. Finding a place took about two weeks, but he didn't say anything during that time. When I found a place, I just packed up and moved out during the day when he wasn't around. Sometimes I feel bad about not even having said goodbye or telling him where I was going. Sometimes I wonder if he is even still alive. Wow, I really went off on a tangent. I started just writing that I never did anything other than work with forethoguht of writing that I never have anyone to talk to about anything, but I thought people reading this would assume that was not true and that I still spent time with family on occasion. I just got carried away with the explanation. Back to the rant... There is nothing worse than being alone. I don't just mean being single, but being completely alone. My phone only rings at the behest of telemarketers. When my birthday comes around, no one wishes me a happy birthday. When Thanksgiving and Christmas approach, the only holiday well wishes I hear are the insincere remarks of retail clerks as they had me a receipt. This past season was no different. I simply sat alone in my house staring at the walls each day. If I were to disappear, no one would look for me. When I die, there will be no funeral. When I have a bad day at work, I have no one to console me, and when I have a good day, I have no one to share it with. I have no one to talk to about anything, ever. It's like being stranded on a deserted island, only everyone knows I'm there, no one wants to rescue me, and no one will allow me to escape. I don't wish to be adored by everyone, but it is a terrible feeling to know that you mean absolutely nothing to anyone. All I would ask for is one person. I think that would be enough for me. Some people would say that I am fortunate to have a steady job, a roof over my head, and to not be terminally ill, but I can't help but look at those comments with disdain. I've been poor, I've been nearly homeless, and I've been sick. I don't have those problems, save for illness, because I've worked hard to avoid or get through them. No one has ever handed me anything. I look at the problems most people complain about and I can't help but view them as petty, easy to fix, or self imposed. I know that sounds condescending, but I only feel that way because I know the things I have are not important. I would gladly trade a good job for love, and I don't think that's a case of the grass being greener. That's not to say I'm wealthy. I rent a small townhouse, make payments on a car, and have a couple of hundred dollars left over at the end of of month. I guess that's the only upside to not having any form of a personal life. I have nothing to spend money on that would get me into serious financial trouble. What I do have, however, will eventually disappear in the blink of an eye. What will I do then? That thought, among others, keeps me awake at night. How do I go through a serious crisis by myself? The thought of looking for a new job before what little savings I have runs out is terrifying. When you have someone, you can get through anything together. When you don't, getting a food stain on your shirt feels like the end of the world. I don't mope around outside my house. I don't whine about my life or act pathetic (except here). Even if I wanted to, I have never had anyone to talk to like this. Although anyone could infer every lonely detail of my life simply from looking at me, you couldn't from my attitude. I am not shy. I am perceived as a bit aloof, but have been told that I am much nicer to talk to than one would think from looking at me. I am seriously ugly. Not just a little below average. If I lived in Hollywood, I would no doubt be given a leading role in the next Revenge of the Nerds sequel. I try not to let it bother me, but it is hurtful when people look at you a certain way and you know what they're thinking. When they get that disgusted look on their face if you make eye contact for a second, or when they laugh at you with their friends. I think I'm a very pleasant, courteous, and polite person. I try my best to not bother anyone and do not do anything that could be considered inappropriate or that would warrant being treated poorly, but after a while you start to pick up on things. For instance, the pretty girl at the supermarket deli consistently and very obviously avoids serving me, while going out of her way to flirt with every normal looking guy in the area. This doesn't bother me as a customer, but it hurts my feelings as a person. The girl who lives next door walks right by me without saying a word, even if I say "Hello," but she will stand in the rain for 15 minutes flirting with a construction worker. Needless to say, I have never so much as had a single date in my life. I don't ask or expect people to like me. Everyone is attracted to basically the same thing, and I am simply not it. I want no apology and would make none myself. I completely understand that no one wants to hang around with an ugly, but it is hurtful when people go out of their way to be mean for something that isnt my fault and that I cannot change. I've consulted with doctors and basically been told that my facial bone structure is just not condusive to any procedure which could make a significant difference. Anything that can be done would be high risk, totally unaffordable, and wouldn't be much different in the end. As Popeye says, I am what I am and that's all that I am. You'll likely want to say, "Go to the gym!" I'm sorry, but the gym fixes fat (which I am not), it doesn't fix ugly. "Go out and meet people!" Well, no one wants to meet me, and I'm not into forcing my presence where it isn't wanted. I've been to bars and other social types of places. I simply get laughed by the women and bullied by the men while minding my own business. "Get some hobbies!" I've tried that, and the things I enjoy are ultimately solitary activities. "Volunteer!" Done that too. What have I learned from these things? Men are all assholes and women have no hobbies or interests of their own. They just hang off whatever their current mate's interests are and do not venture outside the home on their own. "Try an online dating site!" No thank you. 100,000 men better looking than myself striving for the attention of 100 women would not end well. So that's my life. The best I can hope for out of it is not ever losing my job and the owner of my home not deciding to sell. The home will likely get sold out from under me later this year, and when that happens I don't know what I'll do. The only stability in my life is being able to come home to the same place every day. To shop at the same grocery store. To rent movies at the same video store. I couldn't deal with just up and moving. I worry about that almost daily. I doubt I'll lose the job any time soon, but you never know. I'm 27, I've never had anything worth really appreciating, and the best I can hope for the future is the same dreary stagnation. This is not a comforting thought. I realize this all sounds self absorbed, but when you never have anyone to talk to, things just fester. I have no choice but to bottle up absolutely everything until I can't hold it in anymore. Thank you for reading. Good night.