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Sunday, November 22, 2009
Hate. The epitome of evil.
I have a confession to make.
I hate myself. So much that I'm beginning to lose the battle... I can't continue. I can't focus. I can't. I have absolutely no faith that I'll pull this through. This is really what's wrong. Nothing else.
He's fine, doing great. A new man, I should say. It's me. Really just... me.
I can't forgive myself just yet. For all that has transpired. For my part in my own downfall. I hate myself. Did I say that already? Yes. I hate myself.
I'm an ugly, chubby, silly piece of old rag cloth that doesn't know what to do with her stupid life. I hate my face. My body. My hair. My brain. My mood. My incapacity.
Someone is trying so hard to get me out of this shithole. Yet I keep pushing him away. I think. Or am I simply sunken so deep... I can't reach out anymore?
Crying seem to be my favourite pasttime.
I can do this anywhere. Just give me a second and the tears will generate. I think I'm in deep trouble. I think I'm regressing into the dark side again. No. I think I am ALREADY in the dark side.
Someone dear once told me its good to have insights into one's own mental realm. I agree. So I always seek help before it gets irreparable. I need help now. Fast.
GOD, is this another hurdle I have to cross? Are YOU still walking with me? This life journey is so so tiring. Would I ever be totally free of this disease? Would I ever learn forgiveness?
I hate myself.
I know. I've said it already. But...
I really hate myself.
I hate myself. So much that I'm beginning to lose the battle... I can't continue. I can't focus. I can't. I have absolutely no faith that I'll pull this through. This is really what's wrong. Nothing else.
He's fine, doing great. A new man, I should say. It's me. Really just... me.
I can't forgive myself just yet. For all that has transpired. For my part in my own downfall. I hate myself. Did I say that already? Yes. I hate myself.
I'm an ugly, chubby, silly piece of old rag cloth that doesn't know what to do with her stupid life. I hate my face. My body. My hair. My brain. My mood. My incapacity.
Someone is trying so hard to get me out of this shithole. Yet I keep pushing him away. I think. Or am I simply sunken so deep... I can't reach out anymore?
Crying seem to be my favourite pasttime.
I can do this anywhere. Just give me a second and the tears will generate. I think I'm in deep trouble. I think I'm regressing into the dark side again. No. I think I am ALREADY in the dark side.
Someone dear once told me its good to have insights into one's own mental realm. I agree. So I always seek help before it gets irreparable. I need help now. Fast.
GOD, is this another hurdle I have to cross? Are YOU still walking with me? This life journey is so so tiring. Would I ever be totally free of this disease? Would I ever learn forgiveness?
I hate myself.
I know. I've said it already. But...
I really hate myself.