If I die inform my mother of this Livejournal......she should know....

[beylacai]

I've always been this stunted, injured being. I've always felt broken. I've always needed saving. Fixing. I may always be this way. I don't know. After 22 years nothing has changed. I've grown accustomed to life this way. I don't like it but I'm not exactly sure how to go about the change I so desperately desire. Maybe I love it, deep down. Maybe I need this disgusting, dysfunctional co-dependent lifestyle I constantly find myself living. I'm never happy. Content. Satisfied. I find myself always longing. Longing for something better. Something more. I hate this. I hate myself. I don't mean to sound negative. depressed. wrong. weird. Unfortunately, it just may be the truth. Is it a requirement to love yourself? Perhaps, perhaps it isn't in my nature to like who I am? Is it my fault? Does It mean I can't fight it? I try. I honestly do. I've always fought this inner war. Some times I win a battle but the war hasn't ended. Not yet. Maybe it won't. I haven't "punished" myself in months. I haven't "let go". I'd say over 6 months. Maybe more? I can't remember. I want so much. I want this "Jessica style fairy tale". I know it won't happen. If it did I wouldn't be able to feel so tragic, right? Maybe I feed on self loathing. I'm disgusting. Maybe, just maybe, feeling so depressed makes me feel special. Is this something I do to myself? No. I don't think so. I want more than anything to be content. I am upbeat. Sometimes. No, I guess I am, more often than not, gloomy. I'm so fucking deep, right? I'm fucking laughable. I'm the type of person I laugh at. I'm the type of person I so desperately try to become. A self loathing hypocritical bitch. I wish I could cry. I wish I could really cry. I wish I hadn't suffocated my tears. Maybe I'd be better off. Maybe the ability to just cry would help me deal with the daily bullshit I endure. The bullshit I've been through. My life. My failures. My ridiculous over analyzing. My shortcomings. My regrets. My hopes and dreams. My emotions. That I'm not over him. That he couldn't give a fuck less. The one man island I've deserted myself on. How lonely I am. The relentless apathy I feel. The spiritual abortion I've given myself. I don't want to wake up tomorrow but I know I will. I know I have to push forward. I won't throw away this gift I've been given but I don't know how to like it.

Goddamn it I wish I could FUCKING CRY!