I don’t talk to people about my problems because I don’t want to bother them. I wouldn’t know what to say or where to start. I wouldn’t know how to even approach the topic. Besides, I don’t want people to think I’m an attention whore who only cares about themselves and only wants people to feel sorry for them.
Well, I’m sorry.
I’m sorry I’m fucked up. Sorry I’m depressed. Sorry I can’t get out of bed sometimes. Sorry I’m failing college. Sorry I smoke. Sorry I eat all the time. Sorry I hurt myself. Sorry I just waste my life away.
And the thing is, honestly, I don’t have anyone to be sorry about but myself.
But I can’t just forgive myself for being a horrible human. Not when I don’t know why I’m alive. Not when I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with my life. Not when I don’t even like myself. Not when nobody cares for me because I’m a horrible person. A horrible daughter. A horrible sister. A horrible friend. A horrible cousin. A horrible classmate.
It’s not my fault I don’t care about myself, which in turn makes it really hard for me to understand why someone would care for me, and even harder to care for them when I don’t believe they actually like me, no, they just feel sorry for me.
I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore. All I can see are my hands typing, I’m not even looking at the screen. I’m so detached from my feelings I don’t even want to see them written, I just need to get it out. Let it out of my head.