I know no one reads my posts. But I don't care, I still post anyway. Waiting for that one person to see what I've written and give me some sort of... I don't know, recognition? Advice? No, anything really.
At this point, I'd take anything.
But since no one reads this, I can use it as some sort of diary.
Let the emotions swirling in my jumbled mind skip out and maybe I'll get some sort of peace.
Let's start with me.
I tell my friends and family that I think I'm the best thing to ever grace this earth.
But that's my facade. My mask to hide my inner feelings.
I know I'm lazy, arrogant, dumb, and even self centered.
I'm depressed beyond what I let on. And I know I will never amount to anything in my life.
I hate myself. Everyday, I wake up and I know that today is just going to be another day of me wallowing in self pity and hatred. I hate my body, my thoughts, my attitude- Me.
Everything that I've ever done has never amounted to anything. "Most improved student" in 9th grade. Yeah, That's something to write home about. "Senior girlscout" "Junior High School graduate"
Yeah, That's everything I've ever achieved, written in less than three sentences. I will never graduate High school. I will never get a job. And I will never be anything more than what I am now.
A useless, lazy, unorganized, and depressed person living in my parents house trying to mold myself into something I'm not or ever will be.
I'll never be pretty. I'll never be smart. I'll never be anything.
So why do I even try anymore? Why do I set myself up to become just another failure.
I've ******** up so much. I can never retrace my steps and make myself a better person by default.
I wish I could go back in time and stop my parents from ever having me.
Then they can have their favorite daughter without guilt.
James would have never been subjected to the pain of dealing with me.
Kevin would never have been hurt the way he is now.
And everyone I know would be much happier without my presence bolting them to feel sorry for me all the time.
I'm going to stop trying.
There's nothing left for me to do.
Because I know I'll never reach any goal I set for myself.
I have to stop writing.
I can't see through my tears anymore.
 LifeOfStigma · Tue Jan 24, 2012 @ 08:05am · 0 Comments |
