Non of this is real

Am I real? is this life real? Am I stuck in a matrix? Or have I lost my mind like The Narrator in Fight Club, I somehow created a world that's all fucked up and depressing and at some point I plan of killing myself but don't know it yet but it's going to happen because I live in a world that I made and I know every step and every move I'm going to make and every word that is going to come out of my mouth? I see people with jobs, they have a place of their own, they are married, they have a couch, they have friends, they are happy and they nice things and here I am, feeling that all of this is a facade, a mirage. I am really in a coma in a science lab, I am wearing a hospital gown, my hair is all greasy, my legs hairy, I am pale and I have big white grandma underwear on. Sometimes they put a sweater on me and they feed me bananas and tomato soup. I get to go outside for about an hour each day just to know what the sun feels like on my skin and what fresh air feels like on my face, then they put me back in the room and hook me back up again. No one really talks to me, kind of like my fake life, although when they do, but its shallow. I have been yearning for a dog, do I yearn for a dog for real? And yes, I want a dog that smells I guess, not the ones that have a punched in face. I am a project and this life is not real, and my real life is sad just like my fake one and I never had a chance in hell to succeed in this life, none of this is real, I was born a guinea pig and one day I will get old and my brain will not work very well and they will put me in a room to look out the window and watch the birds and cars pass by until one day I close my eyes and never open them again.