There’s a face that none can see.
A little less smiley,
A little less sure,
But a whole lot more like me."
- Shel Silverstein, Underface
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[Blog may be triggering.]
Here is something people don’t understand about me. They always ask: “Why?” I don’t know how much simpler I can put it. Really.
I see myself as nothing.
If I am something, it’s a waste of space.
Due to many reasons. And nobody understandwhyI feel that way. I hate myself. I tell people I don’t hate anything, but I fail to add: “Except myself.”
How do you explain that to someone. I can list you things I hate about myself, I assure you it never really ends, I find more things to add. And they say it’s not true, and that’s nice of them, but it’s a very strong belief. It doesn’t really just stop me from loathing my very existence. Wishing I could literally fall into emptiness. Disappear off the face of the earth. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, and I’m not going to try and argue with you.
It frustrates people, from what I’ve noticed. “Why?”
Even when I explain: “How can you think that?”
I don’t know. I just do. It’s carved into my soul, what can I say? I’ve nevernotbelieved that I was something more. That I was someone worthy of worrying about, carrying about, hell even loving, but nobody loves me, and I know that.
I am nothing.
I’m sorry I can’t change the way I think. I was brought up to believe it from a very young age.
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