Realizing your own worthlessness

This is about my life, I am curious whether I am the only one who has had this experience. Please keep in mind, I am not whining about my life or looking for sympathy; I am simply stating things matter of factly; as coldly, clinically and accurately as I know how.

I was "emotionally neglected/abandoned" as a child by my parents (never really taken anywhere or done anything with, constantly yelled at, told about my worthlessness, told my feelings didn't matter and my feelings made fun of, threatened with homelessness, told I would be killed, etc.) and additionally I ended up being embarrassed by my parents. I saw them as small (character flaws), ugly people when compared to other children's parents. I knew my "family" was not just different but inferior to other families I saw. I believed everything I was told and still do.

My father committed suicide, my mother left. I have no family, no friends. I never had any plans/goals/dreams/vision of my future, in fact I never thought I had one to begin with. I don't even have a sense of identity other than that of "meatsack". I never was able to go up and talk to people and especially never girls. This is both because of an extremely acute awareness of my worthlessness as a meatsack and because I don't feel any connection to anyone, we have nothing of any substance in common and I do not tow the line which apparently one must in order to fit in and be liked; namely that "life is a great big fun adventure". I genuinely don't see it as such, quite the opposite in fact. Yet I have a profound urge, need, whatever it is to have a relationship with a girl, but I know that is impossible for the above mentioned reasons. Everyone seems to either want nothing to do with me to begin with or else abandons me shortly after hearing about my view of things.

I have drifted through life without any of these things, I have no desire to do anything, go anywhere, see anything, be anything. Nothing interests me, I don't care about anything or anyone. All of this is because I know no matter what I do, where I go, what I tell myself, who I am with, nothing will change the fundamental make up of the universe, nothing will grant me reprieve from death, it will not somehow instill worth and/or meaning into life and the fabric of reality because there is no inherent worth or meaning in life.

I see everything everyone does as a distraction, a waste of time, energy, etc. in furtherance of keeping up the lie that their lives are valuable, they have worth and meaning, etc. Further the notion that "you create your own meaning in life" which people will triumphantly state as some sort of profound wisdom, betrays the fact there is no meaning or worth in life/reality/the universe, etc. In essence, there is no point in doing anything because there is nothing to do.

Strangely I have recently begun to fear time; as it has really dawned more intensely than ever on me, that I am growing older each second and I have "wasted" my life by not experiencing "normal" things. I regret not being able to do and experience these "normal" things. I am angry/sad/frightened at this and the prospect of dying.

I feel that life is and has been torture for me, I can honestly say I have not enjoyed a second of it. I constantly wish for death, for a sudden and complete stop to this pointlessness I experience. The only reason I do not kill myself is because I am afraid of the possible momentary physical pain and the strange unpleasant feeling I get thinking about no longer existing.

I do not know if my experiences are the reason for the way I am, I do not know if I would have been any different had I not had the experiences I have had. I do not even care as it is irrelevant.

What I want to know besides whether anyone else feels this way is, why do I/we feel this way, this mix of sickness of life and fear of the end of life? and is this the sensation of ego death or whatever you want to call it (at least in part)? Am I just simply insane? Is this the sort of thing Thomas Ligotti experiences and is inspired by? If so, how is he or anyone for that matter able to reconcile doing things with this knowledge?