I hate myself. I really do. There are days when I want to disappear. I feel despicable, and unworthy and of no purpose.
I feel tired. I feel dragged down, and I feel like nothing. Yet, a part of me relishes this feeling. It’s liberating in its own way. I don’t know how or why, but it is.
Control – I try and achieve it wherever possible. I thrive on certainty, of knowing things well, of making thoughtful decisions. I pride myself in being rational. To say the past few weeks have been rough on me would be quite an understatement.
I feel as if I have failed myself. I feel as if I know nothing. I feel clueless. I hate this feeling, it scares me. I’m trying to grab any piece of objectivity I can and end up shooting myself in the face in the process. I am lost and I am broken.
I feel I’m in a situation where I am being set up to fail. I feel I have no control of the course of my life anymore. I feel weak and hurt. I have been hurt. I am heart broken and I have lost a piece of myself. I am clueless and I don’t know what to do. All I want is to fix things but it involves work and effort from someone who is not me and someone I don’t trust fully.
I don’t think I am made for this. There must be more to my life than this looming unhappiness. There must be.