Self Pity: The first thing I've felt for myself

I feel ungrateful writing this.

After experiencing despondence and melancholic emotions directed at everyone else I possibly could, I finally started feeling for myself again. It's still miserable. I am still miserable. I was talking to Erich  yesterday night and realized I will never be the same again. I asked him, with tears in my eyes, "Will I ever be normal again? Will I ever get to do the things I used to love again." After a sigh, he told me something that broke my heart, "I don't think we will ever go back to who we were after the attack."

This all started because yesterday he went to see the new Marvel movie Logan. A movie we were both looking forward to. I still cannot go into many public places, a movie theater included which is devastating to me. On top of that I cannot watch any thrilling or scary movies - something I used to love to do. Video games? All of mine are shooters, survival horror, or just regular horror games. I have not been able to touch my computer because all my games are there (and my computer faces away from the door). 

This is just what has come up so far. I already know I can't do any activities that get my heart beat up as it might trigger a panic attack. So what all does this include? Where does it end? Summer will be here soon. Will I be able to ride roller-coasters again? Will I be able to enjoy or celebrate Halloween? What about certain songs? I currently cannot listen to metal, and music with a ton of loud beats/heavy on the drumming. 

I guess I thought I would eventually be back to normal. It was just a matter of time before I would go back to my morbid curiosities and my love for thrills. I always prided myself as not being scared of anything (except one minor phobia of sharks). Now look at me. I feel like a scared kid. I am afraid of the dark. I am afraid of storms. I am afraid of crowds. I am afraid of movies, games, and music. I thought all of this in the sentence that echoes in my mind, We will never go back to who we were. 

I feel so much pity for myself. And I feel selfish for giving myself pity. I should be happy that I lived. I should be thankful every day. I am not. I have been miserable every day I've been alive. I have survivor's guilt. When people say things like "At least you're alive!" or "God has a plan for you!" it makes me sick to my stomach. I don't know how I am alive and I sometimes wish I wasn't. If I could have save the life of the man next to me, I would have. It isn't fair that I am alive now and that I am able to pity myself and feel bad for myself. It isn't fair.