Overthinking

Wednesday, August 2nd, 2023

Every time I am scrolling through TikTok or Youtube shorts and see some hateful remarks against the LGBTQ+ community, I can’t help but think how my life could come to an end in this country. Every time I contemplate what might happen to us if these very same people were to win. Every time I would imagine the horrors of what would happen to us.

If those in power had it their way, we of the LGBTQ+ would be shown as criminals while being publicly executed, beaten or raped as every one watches disgust, but not at our perpetrators. They’d be looking at us  with hatred for even existing. For even thinking we could go out in public and be free to be us.

We’d have to stay in hiding yet again. Lurking in the shadows as we watch our bright colors turn dull. As thieves, murders, rapist, pedophiles, and the corrupted remain on the streets free to do as they please, get sent to prison just to do the exact same thing when they’re released back into the world. Meanwhile we are beaten and killed without remorse or a funeral. Our suicides would be considered altruistic instead of egoistic or fatalistic. A sacrifice for the good of “humanity” instead of the preventable loss of an innocent soul. A demon going back to hell instead of a parent losing their child. A grateful deed instead of the spark for a less hateful and sorrow reality.

What would happen to my friends? I wouldn’t be able to protect them. I can’t even protect them now. I can’t fight. I’m an idiot. I’m selfish. If someone got hurt on my watch or asked me to help them. I would be far too incapable. Everyone would have to find out the hard way of how untrustworthy I am. Every one would hate me. But that wouldn’t really be a bad thing. Then maybe I could finally take my life and leave nothing behind.

Or maybe I’ll just sit there contemplating what it would feel like to close my eyes one last time. It’s a scary thought, not knowing if there is something beyond life. That we actually have souls instead of be aware of the planet we call home. That maybe killing myself isn’t worth it. That I could be happy. That I can live to see another decade of my life.

What’s even the point of any of this? I created a YouTube channel so I could be more open, just so I can pretend all that all backlash I’ll receive from people won’t affect me. Wondering if my videos are going to be too short or if I won’t have anything else to write about, or if I waited too long and it’s too late for me to be doing this. What if I get too narcissistic and get upset when I am not making views, money, or subscribers fast enough? People assuming that I am not real, or I complain too much or I don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m just a confused and helpless nobody.

I know being twenty-two seems pretty young for most people. But sometimes it’s impossible to know what you’re going to do in three or four decades before you die verses knowing what you’re going to in three or four days before you cut your life short.

I’ve told myself I didn’t want to make it to seventeen. Then I told myself I was going to kill myself on the last day of high school. Then I didn’t want to make it to twenty-one, and now I am here, fifteen days until I turn twenty-three. Wanting to die whether or not I leave anything behind. But I formed and reformed so many ties with people. I don’t want to hurt them.

I remember last year I was so numb inside that all it took was one intrusive thought. But I kept pushing forward, and now I can’t stop thinking about why didn’t I just do it then? Why couldn’t I have just gone through with it? I’m certain the ties I made aren’t that strong. I’m sure that I can’t possibly mean a damn thing to anyone.

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