Am I the only one feeling like this?

I always believed I'd have my happy ending someday, but my mind has always been poisoned by the other me, the louder voice. This voice that tells me that I need to be thin and beautiful, to conform. That's the thing, I'm the opposite. I've been my worst enemy since the beginning of my time. I'm a lone wolf, but not by choice. I have never experienced a relationship longer than 2 months, I've never been kissed with love, I don't think no one ever loved me, I did love a few people, but that was always one-sided. I've never been good at communicating my feelings, because of my background and I seem to bore people with my problem. So I shut off with time.

I helped many individuals, I was there when they fell apart, I was there when they needed to talk, I stayed when things didn't get better and I was there when they felt better. However, when it's my turn to unload my heart, nobody's there. I'm trying to reach out but nobody takes my hand. So I drown in my own sorrow, because there's nobody to pull me up. I'm a failure, a fraud and a loser. I feel small and invisible. How could anybody love me, if I don't even love myself? I'm spending hundreds of dollars in therapy, but it just feels worst. I'm trying to convince myself that I'm worth it, but the truth is, I'm not! I have nothing to offer. I'm poor, I'm ugly, I have many health issues and I'm fat. I eat my feelings and can't stop getting bigger. With my state of mind, if I had a little bit more courage I would do something about it.

I recently came to the conclusion that I have 2 friends. Two people in the whole world who give a crap about me. For the rest, I'm not their friend. I'm just an annoying person who's always trying to invade their space. If tomorrow I stopped calling everybody, there will be only Marc and Caro that would call me at some point. So, if I'm always making the effort to call, I'm their friend but they're not mine. I'm not complaining, it's facts. I'm so tired of being alone. It's getting heavier to bare.

I can't even bring myself to express the feelings that I have for Jimmy, my coworker. To say that I find him sexy, smart, gorgeous, even if he doesn't think that of himself, and we would make each other really happy. Instead, I chose cowardness and I'm hiding under a fucking rock. I even wrote him a letter, because writing had always been the way to let this all out when there was nobody to listen, so 90% of the time. Will I have the courage to give him this letter? No one knows.

From me to you : I seem to be warm a minute and the next, I'm cold as ice. It's not you're fault, it's mine. The narrative that leads in my head aren't pretty. It screams insults, it's mean and mischevious. It's trying to break me and, often, it succeeds. I feel stupid when I talk, because nobody seems to understand or care for that matter. But if you come to me with problems, I'll try my best to help you, to call you whenever I think you don't feel great because I have no news from you. I will pick up the pieces even if there's ten thousand of them. I will care for you when you feel as dark as a desert's sky. I will do my best because you're important. Everybody has a place, but do I? If nobody does that for me, if I'm left with my own shattered pieces all over the floor, does that mean I'm not important, that I don't matter, that I could be dead in a ditch and no one would care except my mom? And what about the day my mom will die, will I too, left completly alone in this shitty world? I will certainly want that. Anyway, here's all of the dark thoughts I have to compose with everyday. I know I'm not alone and it shouldn't be shameful wanting to talk about this. But the truth is that depression, struggling with yourself, feeling abandoned, battling with the voice in your head, it's commun but not yet really accepted by others. Love is acceptance and I didn't accept who I've become yet. I'm hanging there, but I don't know how much time I can pretend that everything's alright...