I don't want your pity, I just want to vent and express myself the best way I know how

I hear laughing and people being social, and then there’s me; alone, in my hotel room. I hate myself, I’m mad at myself, because no matter how much I want to be social, and make friends, and have people to hang out with, and talk to, it just doesn’t seem to happen. Everyone’s all “Just go out and do something/ Talk to someone…” They think it’s so easy for me to just go out somewhere in a crowd of people and strike up a conversation with the complete stranger next to me. I want to ask them, “Do you not see my fingers, my hands? Do you not pay attention to how I shy away from people, large groups; how quiet I am? IT’S NOT FUCKING EASY.” Going out in public makes me so anxious that I pick my fingers to pieces. I see all the happy couples, families, friends; and then there’s me, by myself. It’s so overwhelmingly depressing sometimes, the reminder that I’m alone, and have the hardest time asking people to hang out, or just to talk because I don’t want to be a bother and interrupt whatever they’ve got going on that’s most likely way more important than my stupid issues that are always the same… Sure, I might open up a little, but I’m still quiet and reserved. Outside of my sarcastic statements, I don’t know how to hold a conversation past the basic ‘get to know you stuff’. I don’t know what to ask, without seeming like I’m being nosy. There was a time when I was really quite social, back in my freshman year of high school. Heck, I made a high school best friend simply because one of us mentioned Dream Street on the walk to math class, and then we became friends after that. So yeah, at one point it was easy for me to make friends, talk to people, be somewhat sociable. And then relationships happened; and things started changing. People would say things, and I’d try to prove them wrong so they would like me. Then THE relationship happened, and things LITERALLY changed; all over a stupid feeling that I thought I had…. And while it was okay in the beginning, it eventually wasn’t okay. A lot of mistakes were made, and I really wish I had had the strength, the courage, to just end it instead of taking “breaks”. Of course, when it did actually end, I regretted it and wanted to take it back, but it was too late. I know things that happened in that relationship changed me; things that happened after that relationship changed me, and I don’t think it was for the better. I shouldn’t be terrified to go out to run simple errands; I shouldn’t be afraid of talking to real people, in person; I shouldn’t feel the need to physically shrink away from people when they get too close to me. I want to be the person that I imagine in my head; strong, confident, has self-esteem, doesn’t care what people think about her, and doesn’t compromise on her beliefs/standards in the off chance that a guy is remotely interested in her. I know that guys see me, and see how weak, shy, and timid I am. They take advantage of the fact that I look like the type of girl who has a hard time saying “no”, and just wants people to like her. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve told guys “no” before, in my sporadic moments where I actually care about myself and my standards, and know that I’m worth much more than someone’s sex buddy. But most of the time I’m not, and that mentality is ingrained in my mind for some reason that sex is all I’m good for. I focus on my failures; my shortcomings; my flaws; my faults. I see other people living the life that I want to live SO BADLY, but feel like I will never live because it didn’t work out with the one person that I realized a little too late that I wanted to be with, despite all of the crap that he put me through, because of what I did to him and I felt I deserved what I got (but really, who deserves to be someone’s “secret girlfriend” just to prove to them that you can handle being in a faithful relationship with them while they’re in another relationship with someone that they didn’t even have feelings for? WHO FREAKING DOES THAT SHIT???). Because life happened, stupid choices were made, and more stupid choices were made, all because I didn’t want people to be mad at me, or hate me. Even when I knew I was right, and all I wanted was someone to be there to support ME, and be there for ME. It’s okay though, apparently I’m not allowed to think or do anything for myself. Clearly I don’t know myself well enough to know what I can and can’t handle. Whatever. I just wish… I wish I didn’t care so much. I wish I didn’t have to try and reach impossible standards that were set before me, and then feel like a complete failure because I didn’t reach them. I wish I wasn’t afraid to say what’s on my mind, because I don’t want to hurt someone’s feelings, or make them not like me anymore ( I don’t even know why I worry so much about whether people like me or not…). I wish I don’t have to worry about anxiety, or possibly depression, and unhealthy thoughts. I wish I could just completely erase certain parts and people from my past, like I never met them, or those events never happened. I wish I could be the person that’s in my head… But I don’t know how to do any of that. I want to have a life, and meet people, and make friends… How does someone do that when large crowds make them anxious? Even around friends, I’m quiet and eventually fade away into the background because I don’t know what to say, or talk about. I’ve gotten used to being by myself. I’ve gotten used to not having expectations anymore. I’ve gotten used to settling for what I can get, because I’m too afraid to say what I want, and stand up for what I want, and not budge from what I want and settle for less than what I want/deserve. But maybe it’s because I don’t feel like I deserve what I want. Whenever anything good happens, I do something to mess it up. Maybe I deserve to be alone, to see others living a life that I’ve wanted for myself, but at the same time, I’m afraid to have. I go out, and I find that I’m always comparing myself to someone else that I see, and I always come up short. I know that no one’s life is perfect, and I don’t know what goes on behind closed doors, but for whatever reason that doesn’t change the fact that when I look at myself and my life compared to someone else that I see, I feel less…accomplished in my life. And then I think “if I hadn’t messed things up back then, my life would be so much different now. I would be happy, because I got what I wanted.” That’s not the case, though. For whatever reason (and I know this is completely backwards), I’m not happy with me unless others are happy with me. I try to set goals for myself, I try to better myself…and then I fall behind somehow. Sometimes, I can pick myself back up again and just keep on trucking. Most of the time… I’m my own worst enemy. Maybe I’m too hard on myself; I expect perfection and when I don’t get it I feel worthless and stupid, and then it’s no wonder I’m not where I want to be, because I fail at everything I try to accomplish. Why do I even bother trying, right? It’s whatever though; I’ll just suck it up, squeeze it in the bottle inside and keep moving somehow… Maybe one day I’ll care enough, long enough to be the person that I probably would have been, had life gone differently or something.