If You Don't Talk to Anyone, No One Will Notice That You Haven't Talked to Anyone

I can't do it anymore.

Since the only reason I exist is to work enough to keep myself alive, why am I alive?  I'm not making a difference in anybody's life.  Well, not a positive one- I'm an annoyance to a few people occasionally.

I'm seeing a therapist.  I'm not sure how that's gonna go.  Her first bright idea was that I should write down what triggers my depression.  As though: 1. I don't know what triggers it and 2. As though that would help.  I told her, "If I were capable of writing about my problems in a way that helped me solve them rather than wallowing in them, I would be doing that already and I wouldn't be here."  She at least acknowledged that made sense.  Because I DO know: it's an unwavering conviction, with fairly sufficient evidence, that this is all there is for me.  My life's over.  I'm never gonna be anybody, I'm never gonna do anything, I'm going to die in a box office because I lack the ability to do anything else, and that includes act like a normal human being with actual relationships.

There's a secretary position at my boss's husband's theatre.  It's another city venue.  It pays 42k, so 6k more than I made last year.  It's a longer commute, such that it would be nearly impossible to do anything apart from drive to it, and it's a secretary job, which I actually consider a step down due to it being the exact same kind of job my mother and paternal grandmother did for most of my life. Neither of them went to college (mom went to business school), and I can't quite adequately express the shame I would feel if I had to tell people I was a theatre secretary. At least assistant box office manager has manager in the title and I supervise people.  But it's more money.  Yes, but at what cost?  Is this irrational?  Sure.  But it's perfectly rational to me because it would be one more indication that I am no better than any other member of my fucked up, dysfunctional family and how hard have I tried to distance myself from that, anyway?

Theatre?  My voice doesn't matter.  I'm a lower class, college educated, straight, cis white girl.  I've got nothing to say that nobody hasn't already heard.  And nobody likes me enough to say, "Hey, come and do things for us."  I fuck it up, because I'm not normal.

People can't like me as I am.  I'd need to at least be of a similar species.  And I'm some kind of reference library, not a human.  If I could figure out how to be a well-paid reference library, I might not care.  But that takes effort and drive I lack.  I started over once before.  I fucked it up.

So this is it, and I don't wanna do this anymore.