every good thing i have i destroyed

I don’t know why I bother going to therapy. I don’t know why I bother telling her the things I can’t talk about with anyone else. I don’t know why I try to get better, because I always find a way to fuck it up.

I fucked up today. It may cost me a job I had been relying on getting offered.

I don’t know what to do any more. I don’t know how to keep trying when I keep making it all wrong. I just exist wrong, and you know, maybe some people do. Maybe I’m just an aberration and I should have got the picture by now.