I think it's fair to say that I'm in a bad state these days.
I know when it started. Why it started. But it's gone beyond Kübler-Ross and into any excuse I can get for hating myself.
I feel worthless, truly and completely worthless. So many things I could have done, could have been, and look where I ended up. Sitting in my room, alone and crying. I keep trying to make myself get up, go out, do something, but I can't stand the thought of anyone seeing me the way I am now. I hate my tears. I'm weak. Pathetic. Pitiful, but not pitiable.
I despise everything about myself. — Of course, when you've got so much material to work with, it's not hard to do. I fail at everything I try to do.
— School? I took two years off because I "felt bad" and moved back in with my parents. And now that I'm back studying again, what am I doing? Using the few skills I have and learning to do something worthwhile? No. I'm an "art" major. A talentless hack who's probably going to wind up mooching off her parents for the rest of her life. I can't even support myself now without their help, not even with two jobs.
— Relationships? Huge fuckup there, too. I couldn't give the person I cared about most the things he needed. I just held him back, dragged him down. He'd've been better off if he'd never met me. Who wants a girlfriend who cries when you touch her, anyway?
— Then there's just me. I can't bear to look at myself in the mirror anymore, not that I could much before. I loathe how I look. I'd look for a paper bag to wear, but they don't make them in full-body models. I'm ugly, a cow, a freak. No wonder my mother gave me away when I was born. She should have taken it a step further and used a coathanger. I'm just someone's accident that should never have been born.
...And that's how I'm feeling today, thanks. I'm trying my best to fight it, but any reasons why I should are just getting slimmer and slimmer. I'm just getting older, and the future most definitely isn't looking any brighter.