I'm guessing there's a pill for that....
Oh shit. So It's back to this again. The depression, the loneliness, the hopelessness. This is what I don't live for but what lives for me . Tight grips on sheets only prevent me from dying in my nightmares. Cold sweat and heart at this point. I can't stop myself from dreaming about you. It just happens. You're stuck in my subconcious it seems and I can't get you out. I should stop drinking I suppose even though each day it helps me forget your face. You make me afraid to sleep. You are the cause of an extreme empty guilt-like feeling that shouldn't even exist in the first place.
Doctors, magazines, and specialists say that people commit suicide because they never loved themselves. They obviously wouldn't know why people kill themselves because they are still alive. People don't love themselves because this world is fucking mad and people don't stop criticizing to make themselves feel better. Just get out of my head with your harsh words and egotistical state of mind.
I want to hate you more than I hate myself. This dream seems impossible seeing as that you're the one who makes me hate myself in the first place. It's a vicious circle.
People don't even understand me anymore because I can't even understand myself. So here I am thanking you again for making me this way.
"Only people can help themselves."
BULLSHIT.
It's only after they realize that whoever is pushing them down died. Yet you still exist....
I hate you. All you do is hold up your dominion over pointless shallow conversations making everyone's soul as empty as yours. "Oh we're not worthy!" Yes...that was a sarcastic remark. Would you expect less of me? Yet this is how you make me feel and everyone around you. "I love my friends more than I love myself." That's not true. What do you have to say for yourself except a bunch of bullshit lies? I usually let this shit go but if I take anymore of this in everything will hit the fucking ceiling and I swear to god no one will hear another word from me ever again. They wish.
I am shamelessly self-involved because of you. I sit hours in front of my mirror making sure i'm perfect before I walk out the fucking door because that's how I feel. If i'm not perfect...no one will love me and it will determine how much fucking sex i'll have in the future. This is everything I don't take pride in and sit here admitting it to some online bullshit that no one will even read because they also hate themselves.
That's why i'm so pissed at myself for eating again. Five pounds for free. I have to stop.
I can't be happy. I never could since the day I was born. Or since nothing went my way ever.
I really should let all of this go but...
WHEN I'M DEAD I'LL REST.