Does anyone else here feel like two different people, or am I alone? I don’t know anymore.
There’s the me that realizes life is fantastic and pretty awesome, the side of me that tells me to enjoy life while I have it. Then there’s the side of me that is realistic and tells me the honest truth: I am a mistake. I’m not supposed to be here. I don’t deserve all the wonderful people in my life. I only screw things up. I am forgiven too often. I wish I could give my life to someone who deserved it.
I have never understood why people tell me to love myself, or give myself a break, or to love myself. I appreciate the thought, more than you could understand. I don’t understand at all how I’m supposed to love myself, or forgive myself. I don’t deserve to be loved or forgiven or anything. I don’t deserve anything good in my life, but it’s given to me. Then I feel like a scumbag for having these things.
If I kill myself, it’s no one’s fault but my own. It’s the least I could do to take full responsibility for it. It’s no one’s fault. The only thing I need to escape is myself, and that’s impossible. I can’t escape the problem because the problem is me.
I blame other people for my mistakes, but at the end of the day, we all know I’m the screw-up.
I don’t deserve anything that keeps me alive, but I get it anyway. If I want to keep myself, I don’t deserve anyone’s help doing it. I’m so demented at this point that I think I deserve the luxury of killing myself to stop the suffering I cause to both myself and others. Aren’t I incredibly foolish!
I don’t deserve to be able to look on the bright side of things. I don’t deserve anything that makes my life easier. I don’t deserve my life. I can’t even begin to wonder why I am alive. I hate myself to the highest possible degree.
Look at this disgusting pile of self-pity. I don’t deserve this life.