My brain is one long, endless guilt trip. Every movement. Every word. Every look. Detail. The way I walk and dress. Everything. Is over-analyzed times a billion. Reviewed and replayed. Over and over and over again. Then judged and torn to pieces.
& by who?
Me.
I’m making myself fucking miserable.
I’m the only problem in my life.
No one else is to blame.
My thoughts:
Then;
”I was being too nice. A pushover. Dirt. Something to kick around. When she gave me a look, I just smiled. I’m so weak. Pathetic. A punching bag. But at least by having a pleasant, kind demeanor, I can make up for my terrible flaws.”
Now;
”I’m being a fucking bitch. Too mean. Nasty. Repulsive. Obscene words spat. Dirty looks. That boy made fun of my name. I glared. I shouldn’t have glared at him. I’m so rude. Such a bitch. I should know that’s just how he is. A joker. I didn’t have to be so stuck up. Who do I think I am? I need to go back to being nice. I hate the person I’m becoming. Too judgmental. Stop it. If I act like this, I will come off as disgustingly rude and horrible. ….but at least people might leave me alone.”
Always;
“Why can’t I be like that girl? Can’t I just be like________?(Insert a girl’s name here.) She’s so beautiful. Her eyes. nose. face structure. hair. everything. She’s so kind but also funny and witty. Why can’t I please just once be cool like that? Why. I just want to die. Someone like me should disappear. You cannot do anything right.”
…
Am I fucking crazy? I’m just so done. I’ve had it with myself. No matter how hard I try to change my self resentment, I always start back at square one. I just don’t know what to do anymore. I’m starting to freak out.
I’m crumbling.
It’s like everything is being blown way out of proportion. Way, way, way out. & I’m the one who’s doing it all. To myself.
It’s just too painful. I really can’t take it anymore.
I don’t know what to do.
I can’t be nice or kind without being a pushover.
I can’t stand up for myself without being a complete and utter disgusting bitch.
I take things to the extreme.
So I try to be distant and alone.
Aloof and emotionless.
Just calm.
I tried to be like that in school because I don’t know how to express or be myself.
Whoever ‘myself’ is.
I hid away because I didn’t want to be teased or made fun of.
I tried to show a little ‘personality’…I suppose but I just over exaggerate and act like someone who I’m not.
I just can’t seem to find the happy medium.
18 years.
& I have no clue of what or who I am.
At least, I have no idea what my identity is when I’m in school.
I thought it’d be cool to be mean and…I don’t know..tough. A glaring asshole in school. I tried. I failed.
I thought it’d be good to be nice and pleasant. I failed.
I stop everything.
It worked.
..Actually, I don’t even know what worked or failed. Because I don’t know what anyone thinks of me. I mean, probably no one thinks anything off me. I am a wall flower. Maybe a wall weed. But any look I get, I make assumptions from that look. Even if it was a look for a second. I think they either hate me or like me.
even as I type this with tears streaming down my face, I think to myself,
“you’re such a victim.”
what am I doing.
why am I feeling sorry for myself for nothing..
It’s like I have two people in my head;
A crazy, fucked up freak,
And
A logical, normal person.
..
This makes no sense at all.
None of this makes sense.
Not even when I explain it.
This is fucking crazy.
I need someone.
Anyone.
To talk to.
To sort out my feelings.
Writing it out makes me feel worse.
I think I might show my mom.
But why would anyone want to see how fucked up I am.