Life is work but I'm not working

I still have no job. I'm actually looking now and hoping to find Something, but it's depressing. I'm intelligent enough and got good grades. I'm sure most people think of what I could have, should have been, but I never had a 'career'.

The stuff I learned in university is 98% faded away. After that I was lazy, scared, and lacking self confidence, so instead of working I started helping my grandparents out with things. My grandmother passed away most likely from a doctor's negligence and her husband was lost. He was in a worse state than I am now, if that's possible. He was a very quiet man, and his English wasn't great, and they were together forever. I took care of him for a while and it even turned into a full time thing where his son paid me a bit. I decided I was going to go back to school. It was a stupid idea. I hated the program and the only good that came out of it was meeting one friend. My grandfather had to go into a home, and it was my fault. He was so alone and scared, and I knew he was in there because of me.

This is around when I met P online. He eventually moved here to be with me, and I decided to finish what I started and get a diploma for something I found to be incredibly boring and tedious. I had a 1 year paid co-op (internship) type thing, and worked there another summer. That's the closest I got to a real job. It was boring and I hated the thought of actually working there with all the multibilliondollarpolitics but near the end I was a bit proud of some small Walmart promo of mayonnaise that I worked on. It sits in my desk covered in dust and probably bloating full of salmonella now.

After that I finished my last semester and got this slow tedious piecework job as a subcontractor for the company I worked at before. Basically the more I did, the more I made. It was slow going but I got into a groove for a month or two, around the time P was having symptoms and figuring out his diagnosis. I couldn't concentrate at all and had to resign when I found out it was cancer. My boss looked at me a certain way and mentioned that his last wife had had cancer. I knew what it meant but didn't want to say anything. I was scared shitless for P.

I haven't worked since and that was October 2008. I stopped playing the online game we met in and had played daily for like 8 years. That was my social network. We lived off his disability payment and my entire life revolved around cancer and trying to make him as happy as he could be. It sort of revolved around that anyway before the cancer, but now I was extra devoted.

Now I have nothing. I've hated working at every single random job I have had since I was a teenager. Everyone my age is rolling into the rewarding part of their professional (and personal) career. If they aren't, their spouse is and they're at home taking care of the baby they just popped out. At least this is what Facebook leads me to believe.

I feel so tired all the time, like I'm an 80 year old war vet. Like life passed by really fast, and I skipped a lot of the stages and there is no going back. At the same time, I feel like I'm 18 years old and I just graduated high school. Like a scared teen unsure what's supposed to happen next. At least back then it was normal to just defer adulthood by going to university. At least back then there was a billion possibilities and I knew my life had barely got started. Anything was possible.

Now I feel like a crippled withering teenager. I have nothing to look forward to. I don't want to die because it would make my parents sad. I don't want to tell them that because it would make them sad. I have two IRL friends, and I talk to a few people online. I sleep all day, maybe 12-15 hours. No matter what I do, my body resets into a horrible schedule where I'm up all night and sleep all day. I can .. I forget the word... rationalize? scrutinize? whatever. I can look at it all I want and know that I'm staying in bed because it's easier. Because I might have a dream with P in it. Because that's better than real life. Because night is easier to fill than day, I feel less obligated to be 'productive' by some imaginary rules of society. I can browse the net, clean the kitchen and watch tv until the sun rises, beat myself up for not going to bed earlier, try to sleep and fail unless I am exhausted, and then wake up at sunset and hate myself.

My therapist thinks a regular schedule would help me. So do I. I just can't enforce it though, it just feels impossible. Sometimes I HAVE to get up and it's hellish for a few days while I readjust. I used to be fine on 6 hours sleep, now I NEED about 10 but 12 is better. I always return to this stupid night schedule. What's wrong with me?

I always had this darkness in me, this failure. P would keep it in check though. I would go to bed because I wanted to be as normal as I could (in that respect) for him. I wanted to someday get a job and feel happy about myself and make him proud. I've never felt good about myself. The only time I had some confidence was in that online game when I met him. I was good at playing my character, and he was giving me attention. His compliments and the fact that he actually liked me were and are the only proof I can cling to that I'm not worthless. Now those are gone and I'm just alone. Sometimes my cat rubs my face, and I like that.

Who would possibly want to hire this mess?

I hate my life now.