Yowza. So many things all at once. Paperwork screwups, threats, isolation and my own thrice-cursed tendency to assume the most pessimum interpretation of anything anyone says to me. Bah humbug.
I've been wrestling with quasi-inexplicable self-loathing the last few months. I know it's irrational. I know bloody well it is, but I can't dispel the idea. Someone criticizes me for the slightest thing and I start feeling like I'm worthless for having made the mistake in the first place. Goddess help me, I even entertained ideas of self-harm. Damn it, why does it get to this point? I don't deserve to have my shin clamped in a vice and cranked down until the bones snap. Nobody deserves that. So why the fuck can't I convince the damned emotional part of my brain of that?
Fuck! I just need to get back home, that's what. Then I can get help. Out here, I'm alone in a crowd. 250 people and I'm alone. Go fucking figure.
I know, this is a bunch of emo-kid shit. Fine. Whoop-de-fucking-doo. I have to vent or I'll internalize it, and well, I think that's the problem, now, innit?