When you hit rock bottom... the only way is up... right?
I can't even bring myself to write this in a coherent way... I feel so sick. This is not me,... but it is... I know it is but, I don't even know who I am anymore.
I am shapeless and formless, with no morals, and a distorted view of wrong and right.
I have no one, and it is all my own fault.
I had people praise me, respect me, and show me the greatest kindness imaginable, and just because I couldn't see what they saw... I had to go out of my way to prove them wrong.
Like a train hurtling over the abyss of a sprawling canyon, or the moment just before a child innocently kills his first living creature, and learns what death is... the universe holds it's breath.
I do not understand myself. My thoughts are not of self hatred, but of pure awe and repulsion of my inability to differenciate between what is harmful for myself and others, and what is good.
I follow compulsions instead of thought, and gravitate towards those who would look to take advantage of me.
My place is not here... I had no business trying to do this. The longer I stay, the more I plow deeper into the dark parts of me. The most terrifying part is that the dark and light are combined in such a way that they both look the same, and they are both... me...
One of the worst things about this is... I don't know what my value is. Furthermore, I don't know what love is. Once I think I have found it, an instant later it becomes marred, and deformed until it is nothing but a blotch on my memory, and a reminder of how far I have sunk.
I can't know love because all I know is "need". I don't know this slow burning pure thing called love, I only know a frenzy, a leaping, like my skeleton wants to rip through my very flesh with desire for something that will ultimately destroy me.
So this is my voyage of discovery,... and I've finally been proven right. All those kind people who saw something in me, well they are now wrong, and I can now stop pondering what it is they think they see, and why I can't see it. It is because it never existed. Because of my actions, or inaction, I have made myself the person I am now. I was never an angelic being, even from childhood I was a terror, but now I am just what I am supposed to be. I am almost nothing. A shade, a shadow, a forgotten indistinct shape in someone's peripheral vision.
I am to be whispered about, to be judged, to be felt embarrassed about.
I can't even bring myself to cry tears of frustration, or vent,... or even hate. It seems everything came to me to show up my true nature.
So I'm waiting for the up... but I feel there is more to come. I have not yet been hurled from my passive, self-loathing state by a horrific occurence... so at least I have that to look forward to.