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#self loathing

I…wanna draw….or write…. but…i always feel bad with the outcome… but I feel bad too if I don’t do anything… Ughhhh

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I hate myself for being jealous, so I pretend I don’t care. Then I’m jealous of anyone who isn’t jealous and I hate myself even more. This results in hating myself for hating myself ‘cause I would be less jealous if I wouldn’t hate myself. Wow. Amazing.

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“I smile. I laugh. I joke around. I sing. I dance. I cook. I clean. I’m the best mother I can be. I’m a good granddaughter. I’m a good sister. I’m a good girlfriend. I give good advice. I’m kind to others. The thought of hurting another persons feelings repulses me. I try hard to stay clean. I lay in bed at night curled up bawling my eyes out, so hard I can hardly catch a breath or see through my tears. I pray to whatever higher power there may be to just let me die. I’m absolutely miserable. I will always be this. This woman that puts on a good front. This person that tries so hard to come off as smart, strong and brave. This fucking idiot that hides behind lies and completely falls apart because no one even notices that I’m hanging on by the skin of my teeth. I’m mad at me. I’ve become too good at making others believe I’m really ok and then I get upset no one sees through it. I’m fucking dead inside and come tomorrow morning no one will have a fucking clue. I’ll smile, I’ll laugh, I’ll hide behind my education and mothering skills. I’ll go on living because that’s what I have to do. I’ll go through the motions of life and no one will be none the wiser. I’ll simply just be me.”


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today i unconditionally despise myself. my brain is lukewarm, fetid oatmeal sitting atop a fat amorphous blob of rancid meat that nobody in the known universe has any use or desire for. not even the maggots want any part in it. i have on rare occasion felt this fucking stupid. my reflection staring back at me induces a gag reflex. the leather chair is covered in sweat and my skin has become one with it. i have become a cheap chair. this is my life now. as i try to stand up, the cheap leather - it’s not real leather of course - comes off with me. i will soon head to bed and hope that tomororw will either be better, or will not come at all. fuck today. fuck pandemics. fuck the uncaring universe, and fuck all of you who i’ve given much more to than i should have, who give me not a single fucking thing in return, not even the courtesy of replying to my text messages. it’s impossible to hope for nuclear war any more than i do. life is so overrated. can we just be extinct already? whatever god decided to make life needs to cut it’s losses and start over.  

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