/r9k/ - ROBOT9999

Up until yesterday, I was of the belief that one of the reasons I feel bored, frustrated or sad most of the time is because I simply don't have any "productive" hobbies. Frankly, I don't really have any hobbies at all. I only frequently play maybe two or three games, all of which are singleplayer and none of which require any semblance of intellectual input or meaningful mechanical skill whatsoever, and I divide the rest of the time on my computer between this site, 4clitty, YouTube and my eclectically-used writing document. As an attempt to break this monotony, I decided to try something new for once, that being the drum set which my sister received for a birthday aeons ago and which has coincidentally been collecting dust in my shed for nearly as long.
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The shed is completely cluttered and full of old, useless junk, so I had some difficulty reaching the tightly packed drum set and sitting down to play. I loaded up a YouTube tutorial which explained the very basics, followed by another focusing on playing the most simple, barebones sequences. I can't fathom why, but even the most basic things, rhythms which literal toddlers who aren't even capable of reading and writing can replicate, came to me with difficulty, in spite of repeated practice. The absolute beginner melodies used as short examples for their sheer simplicity proved to be something I took a lot of time to get the hang of even with repeated trial and error. Even still, when I finally managed to get things right, it did not feel rewarding enjoyable, just a minor lapse in frustration and contempt, underlined by the feeling that I will never be good at anything. I went into this activity actively trying not to compare my progress to others, which is something I often hear hinders motivation, but even while blocking my mind from focusing on these thoughts, it was utterly ineffectual. After some time of having at this, I got quite upset and felt a lump forming in my throat, which prompted me to say some veritably extreme things in desperate prayer, which was then followed by me putting down the sticks and retreating back to my clittycel cave.
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This experience has only served to further drive home the realisation that, even when I try to "have fun" in a productive manner, all it does is make me frustrated, hateful and upset instead of bored, agitated and restless. The sad thing is, this applies to virtually every other hobby I've tried in recent memory, even things as trivial and useless as unfamiliar videogames with unfamiliar gameplay systems. I'm not autistic and so I don't sperg out over minute adjustments to my environment, but I usually prefer to keep things the same, or, more specifically, within the same framework, and so it is not often that I try radically new things. Even when I tried my hand at the drums again today, I just could not get into it. When the tasks became too difficult to perform, I just became annoyed with my own incompetence and the gradually growing understanding that I don't enjoy playing the drums, or even the mere concept of being able to play the drums.
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I simply can't understand what other people, namely "talented" people, have and experience that I do not. Tangentially, I recall an experience I had about a month or two ago, where, in a fit of boredom, I searched up the name of a third-rate rock "musician" I stumbled across through the Spotify recommendation algorithm. This was likely influenced in part by my hatred for his retarded song titles and poser-y self presentation, as well as finding most of his music to be uninspired and gay. I opened an article about him where he briefly detailed his music-making journey, and it sort of took me by surprise how he had began not only playing, but composing and releasing music in his early teenage years. This provoked a visceral feeling of resentment, disgust and hatred within me, and I turned off my phone, took out my earphones and did not listen to any music for the next 2 or 3 hours. It is lamentable that, even though my sensibilities and tastes are a lot less terrible than his are, at the end of the day, he is capable of creating what most people consider to be music and I am not, even if it is only faggy music for retards.
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In spite of my better judgement and all that I have said, I still find the idea of being able to play an instrument slightly enticing. I think if I were able to play one, and able to play one well, I would have something concrete to ground my identity to, and I would at least be able to pride myself on doing something sort of semi-worthwhile with my free time instead of absolutely nothing at all. If (You) have any advice for me and my predicament, or have had any similar experiences with musical instruments or just hobbies in general, it would be worth sharing.