Seeing as you seem intelligent enough to understand, let me tell you something. I am a person. One who has feelings and emotions and I am sick to fucking death of being treated as only a provider of money. This may seem like a minor issue but to me it is a major issue. "But, you're not rich" you might say. Indeed, but I have earned over 100 grand a year and what do I have to show for it? Fuck all.
I set out to be a creative, inspiring individual but all people could see was what I could provide them with. Unfortunately, this had nothing to do with comfort of the soul - it was security, financial security. So I worked my arse off doing things I hated doing. I cut my hair short, which I didn't want to. I wore a suit which I hate as I feel like i'm being hung. I slept in my car, which in winter is not fucking fun at all. I travelled to places I didn't want to, on my own - always on my own. I seem to have spent so much time sleeping on my own, in strange places, it's depressing.
Then, when I had got the things that those people wanted, and maybe I could relax and just enjoy being - the shit gets taken away, again. So once more, I have to start from zero. Once more, the hair gets cut off and I have to prostitute myself again.
Every time I invest emotionally in anything, it all comes down to one thing - money. I'm fucking sick of it. I just want to have shit loads of money and give it away to the people who are asking and then I could say "Right, you've got what you wanted - now fuck off and leave me alone, forever".
There are things that I want to say but I never tell people. What's the fucking point, it's not like I matter unless I have money right? "Ooo you're so selfish" people say - why? Because I drink and smoke? Bollocks. If you spent as much time feeling as miserable as I did you'd have to do something.
"But people love you and they care for you", they say. Well, they've got a very selective way of showing it. They love me when I'm buying things or paying for things. They love me when they can go shopping and not worry about it. They never actually ask what I might want. Even if they do, it is fleeting and I can see that it is a rhetorical question. They don't actually want an answer and thus, I never tell them.
I discussed this with the psychotherapist when I went to see her - I opened up briefly and guess what? I fucking spoiled her day. She couldn't rationalise how I felt because I had the answers to every question she could ask. I'd already thought them through but everything looked black.
So what do I do? I listen to everyone elses problems and offer considered advice. I've heard so many stories of abuse, rape, bullying and other such nasty behaviour that it has tainted my very soul. But, all the time I try to be strong and profer the best advice I can at the time. No-one ever asks why I'm sad. Nobody ever asks how I feel, or why I behave the way that I do. They make huge leaps of assumption which are so far away from the mark that it's almost laughable.
Turn to religion some have suggested. Why? So I can listen to more bullshit and then give money at the end. I don't ask for much, in fact I don't ask for anything - a mistake maybe. But what's the point, I wouldn't fucking get shit anyway, unless I paid for it.
Well, at least there will be plenty of money when I'm dead - that's the beauty of life insurance (and I have to pay for that bastard too).