Life, The Universe And Everything - Sucks

Why can't I die?
Fate doesn't seem to want to stop fucking with me.

My father calls me "strong" for "surviving all that I have", but I'm not strong, I'm weak, I should have died many, many, MANY times over the past 11 years, the only thing I haven't been able to do is die successfully. That's nothing to be proud of, and it's certainly not "being strong".

Today, like most days this past decade, I wish I hadn't woken up.
Nothing spectacularly surprising or "bad" happened, I just wish I wasn't alive.
I wish this most days.

MAYBE, if Fate is busy somewhere else, leaving me alone, I can at least feel minimal pain, feel that maybe it's a good thing I'm not dead yet - feel...something, other than pain, but that rarely lasts more than a full day, and usually only every other week or so.

I have no friends that I "see" regularly. I have a few I hear from time and again via email, but I haven't seen anybody in the last 3 years other than family, and the few neighbors I say "HI" to from time to time while walking outside.

I barely go "out".

I haven't been outside in the past 4 days, though that's nothing, I have gone, quite literally, for WEEKS without stepping a foot outside my door.

I cry for no reason, or at least, no readily apparent reason, though I usually get so depressed that I'm crying for no reason that I will then have a panic attack and break into an even more intense crying session.
I'll throw up.
I'll cry more.
I'll think disgusting, hateful thoughts.
I'll hate myself for thinking those disgusting, hateful thoughts.
I'll throw up some more.

One thing I can't do well, other than enjoy anything, is sleep.
Most nights I only half-succeed.
On nights when I get really lucky, I'll sleep 4 hours.

Being sick sucks.

People who haven't been sick, for long periods of time (I'm talking YEARS, not days) have NO IDEA what it's like to be sick. People can't even grasp the idea that almost every day for an entire DECADE, a person can be sad and in physical (and mental) pain.

Pain (physical & especially mental) is so subjective, it's hard to explain to anyone who hasn't experienced it the hopelessness you feel after, oh, say 11 years.

I am mentally beaten, I may as well be brain dead because I can't think straight any more.

I don't want to get out of bed.
I don't want to eat.
I don't want to talk.
I don't want to see anyone.
I don't want anyone to see me.

I don't want to be alive.

Yet, here I am, day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year, a decade after becoming sick and losing the ability to control my own body - I'm alive, but I'm not living. This is not "alive", this is just a body that refuses to accept reality and just stop functioning. It's prison. I'm trapped. There is no parole.

How I wish for death to find me and end my misery.

I have no purpose. I have no function.
I exist only to annoy, and depress other people with my constant, unending suffering and complaining.

Fate won't let me go.
I despise Fate.
Fate continues to torture me day after day.

When my suffering ends - it will be years too late.