Explaining it all

I hate myself. In truth, that is the answer to it all. I hate my body and what it does. I hate that I have to take care of it. If I didn't have so much guilt over what would happen to people like my mother if I died, I would just not take care of my body at all. And why is this the truth? Because I am not worth it. This isn't to say that I do not think that I am worth it, or that I don't want to be worth it. I want to be worthy of life more than anything in the world. The truth is that I know that I am worthless. I know the truth of myself. I deserve the bad things that come to me. I am eternally grateful for all of the good things that come my way because they are a true gift to someone who has no reason to ever expect or dream of anything good. And, I wait for those things to be destroyed, because nothing good in my life can last.

I know of the blackness inside, where others can only imagine it. No one believes that it is as bad as it is. I am the one inside my body and mind, and only I know the real truth of myself. What little girl tries to abuse another child? The answer, a bad one.

I guess that one of the reasons I am in T is so that I can change that, but I don't really believe that's possible. I almost don't want it to be possible. I don't know what I want. I want to forget. I want to live in blissful ignorance uptil death.

Why do I hate myself so much? Why does my entire life have to revolve around trying to fight my nature, around trying not to be the bad person that I really am. Doing good things and avoiding causing others pain as much as I can doesn't change my basic nature. Why do I spend so much energy trying? It's useless, pointless. I am what I am.

A useless bad child.

Me