Joy is to survive

DISCLAIMER: This is the exact same post that was on my Tumblr, just moved here. Just a fair warning, in case you've already read it. Also, there’s gonna be a lot of words, so if you don’t feel like reading a bunch you can just watch the video at the end, which’ll basically sum everything up.

The other day, a close friend informed me that, if I ever needed to rant about anything, she’d gladly listen. This came as no surprise to me, nor was it the first time I had heard something like it. In fact, I know that I have many people that care about me, and any problems I may have….and that’s what I can’t seem to wrap my head around.
See, I’ve never been one to talk about my problems, or bare my soul, or any of that. I’ve always chosen to project an eternally carefree image, and deal with any real issues I may have on my own. Consider me an introverted extrovert, if you will. For whatever reason though, I’ve decided to open the floodgates and let everything I think about myself out into the open. Maybe this’ll make me look down upon myself less. Maybe it’ll justify everything I already feel. It’ll almost certainly paint me in a new light to a lot of people. Whether that ends up being a negative or a positive thing though, remains to be seen. Okay, I’m gonna shut up and start talking now:
I have what I like to call Xander Syndrome (yes, like the character from Buffy the Vampire Slayer). Here’s what I mean:
1: I try my best, and would do anything for the people I love and care about, even though I have no real skills or anything to offer, and;
2: I joke constantly about anything and everything, to avoid dealing with, you guessed it, anything and everything. I love trying to help my friends through any problems I may have. Yes, it is because I care about them, but there’s also a deeper, more selfish reasoning behind it. Every time I can have a hand in improving someone’s day/life/whatever it makes me feel… like I’m worth something. Also, helping other people deal is so much easier than dealing on my own, which is why I choose to do so.
3: I have way more female friends than male. It’s always been this way. When it comes to choosing close friends, I’ve always gone for people where I feel I can be myself completely. Both the inane, goofy side that the world sees, and the thoughtful, philosophical side that few ever get to see. And I’ve found very few male friends that I can share that side with. Not saying they don’t exist, as I do have a couple. Just that they’re a lot rarer than the female of the species. And speaking of females…
4: All my relationships start out fine, then they end up to be bloodsucking hellbeasts that want nothing more than to devour my soul, once they’ve decided they have no more use for me. At first I thought it was because I just went for whoever came my way (This is due to the fact that I’ve always figured that I’m unworthy of love, and should be grateful that anyone would waste time on me. I’m not completely over that mentality yet, but I’m much better than I was before). But then I started going after what I wanted. And it was the same thing all over again. I’ll find someone who I think is sweet, loving, honest, and genuinely beautiful both inside and outside. And I will love them with every fiber of my being, and do everything in my power to try and see that they know this, and are happy and taken care of. And, for a while, everything is great. But then, once it seems I’ve outlived my usefulness, the loving, caring person I thought I knew will start to show their true colors. Thing is though, I blame them for being fake, and changing (and in all honesty, they do. This is in no way me just being bitter for the sake of it), but the truth of it all is that there’s one common factor that plays into all of it: Me. Which makes me think that I’m the one that turns them into horrible, she-beasts who want nothing more than to see me hurt. And it also makes me think that maybe I deserve it. I mean, someone who deserved happiness wouldn’t have that kind of consecutive bad luck, would they?
5: Everyone I know has some sort of skill or talent, something to offer the world. Meanwhile, I have nothing. I’m gonna be 30 in less than 4 years. And I have absolutely nothing to show for all the time I’ve put into this life. No career, no degree, no house, no car (hell, I don’t even drive, and I never have), and no one to love, or to love me.
Yet, despite all of this, for some reason, people keep me around. And I can’t understand it. I fuck up so much, I drive people away, I try to help others when I have no business doing so. I mean, hell, I can’t even help myself, so what right do I have to give anybody else advice? None, that’s what. Honestly, when I think about it, I’m the worst kind of person there is. And not a day goes by when I don’t wake up in the morning and just wish I could close my eyes and fall back asleep again forever.