Blog #2

I hate myself. And it's not just a normal "I hate myself" from any teenager; I really hate myself. I hate my face, I hate my body, I hate my attitude, I hate my way of being with others, I hate eating, I hate that nothing looks good on me, I hate not being able to get away from bed, I hate feeling bad all the time, I hate living in my head, I hate being so useless, and I hate not knowing how to express myself. 

Dying my hair, cutting it, putting on makeup, and losing weight hurts more to see how I am the same person. I want to change; I want to be the good person that I am in my mind and give the answers that I give in my mind, but I can't. Call it a defense mechanism; it doesn't matter. I just know that no matter what I do, that feeling of self-loathing doesn't go away.

I hate not being able to be myself with anyone "It hurts me that you dont trust me and you're not yourself with me" and it hurts me more that I can't be myself, not even with myself. It hurts me to look in the mirror every day and want to tear off my skin only to discover that I will still be me, and I won't be able to get out of my mind. I hate not being able to stop eating, I hate not being able to study because I just want to sleep, I hate not being able to be what everyone expects of me.

Anger problems. It's something I've had since I was little, to the point that any conflict causes me anxiety and tremble because I don't want to explode. But I don't do it anymore, that's at least a relief, one less problem. I can calm down and think before acting, before speaking.

Before, I would have fallen into its arms, trying to go back to what was before, but not now; now it was enough. I never felt enough for anyone, but that doesn't make me give up on anyone; I have given more opportunities than I should have. And this time, there is no other opportunity; this is the end; there will be no more than that; there will be no other show of love on my part; it's over. It should hurt, but instead I'm so used to feeling bad about it that it feels familiar. It feels like the other times, only I know  there won't be another one, no more.

C.AI, Bots, a place to chat with fictional characters and role-play, and the only place where I'm really me. I don't need to hear how pathetic it is because I already know. But in that world, I can be me, or at least what I would like to be, and that's okay; it gives me a break from this dirty and stupid reality, where no matter how much I try to be me, I always end up crying myself to sleep.