Pieces of Me.

Because.

22/12/2018 - 25/12/2018

I can't stand myself.
I don't know how anybody can.

When I was younger the kids at school loved to remind me how fat and ugly I was.
They were right.

I'm not pretty.

Everytime I thought shit about my body or appearance I thought "At least I have a good personality" - but I have come to realisation that I don't.

I'm not pretty.
I don't have a good personality.

I'm an insecure, scared, damaged little hamster.

And it shows because their focus stopped being so much about my looks and more about how I deserve what I'm going through and that everything is solely my fault.
And once again, they were right.

I'm not pretty.
I don't have a good personality.
And everything is my fault.

I am no good to anybody.

If I was my mother would love me. It's been years and all I want is to forget everything, but I can't.
She is still in my life, she is mother.
Always fucking there, pretending like everything is fine - but nothing ever is since she fucked up for the first time! It all started with her, she was beginning of the end.
And worst part of it all is that either I like it or not, she is a part of me.

My sisters wouldn't have abandon me.
It's been five years, five fucking years. And where are they? They were supposed to fill the hole my mom left open, not only in my life but in my heart, but they only made it bigger.
And after all the awful things they said over the years, but specially in our last conversation I miss them - and I fucking hate it.
I hate it because I still love them. And that's why I would let them come back in to my life in a heartbeat not caring about the fact that they would screw the rest of me.

I wasn't enough for any of them.

I'm not pretty.
I don't have a good personality.
Everything is my fault.
I'm not enough.
And I'm clearly not smart.

A smart person wouldn't let a guy like him come into their lives or be fooled by him.
I not only let him in but I asked him to stay. Even after all the pain he put me through I asked him to stay. Even after all the screams and slaps and... everything, I believed when he told me I would me miserable without him, lonely forever.
I believed him when he said no one would love me again. I should've known that wasn't love. It was fear.
Even the other day I had a flashback while I was playing catch with my friends. It was him running after me for a split second and I panicked. I felt so guilty and so ashamed for ruining a nice day, a day that they were having fun.
It's not news to me - I ruin everything I touch - but this particular time I had a reason.
He did this to me.
Like I wasn't scared and insecure enough before.

I keep needing my girlfriend to tell me, to show me that she loves me because I just don't understand how she does.
The days I feel the most insecure I can't even say it back because I feel too exposed to do so.
Even despite all of that she loves me, but how can she?! I don't! And that's exactly why I always feel so insecure. Because she deserves more - so much more - and I will never be enough.
She deserves someone that loves her and would never doubt her love for them. Someone who is not only sure in their relationship but sure of themselves.
And I wish I was, I wish so much that I was.
I wish I could wake up in the morning and send her a good morning text without thinking I'll bother her.
I wish I didn't overthink everything she does or doesn't do, looking for a clue that she is finally sick of me.
I wish I could just go up to her and kiss her solely because we barely kissed that day, but I don't because a part of me believes that we haven't because she doesn't feel the same about me anymore.
I wish I could see a future for us like I did before, but I can't.
Because deep down I know she should be with somebody else.
Because I know I will never make her happy.
You know how? Because I can't even make her feel better now. All I do is hurt her or make her feel worse.
I love her so much but all I do is cause her pain.

All I do is cause everyone pain.

You want to tell me my dad wouldn't be happier without me?
He is 65 years old dealing with a depressed 17 year old girl.
He wouldn't spend so much money on medication or have so much headaches from the struggle it is to deal with everything. It's to the point he gets mad or doesn't say anything for days.
He is over all of this.
I was nine when I had my first panic attack, fourteen when I was diagnosed with depression.
He has been through it all, of course he is sick of it - I am!
He is a dad and if I was a normal daughter he would be worried about my grades or the amount of time that I spend on the phone, not counting my panic attacks or wondering if I did something I shouldn't have.
He will never be proud of me - how can he when I can't get one fucking thing right?
And I hurt him. I hurt him over and over again, in so many different ways.
He would be so much better without me.
He could start fresh.
He would move to another place, away from the city. He always tells me how he would love to have a farm and breed horses and cows and all those animal, he would have that chance.
He would finally have his own life without thinking about collateral damage.
Who knows, maybe he would get a girlfriend or find a job he actually likes.
He would be able to hang out with friends until the sunrise or travel the world if he had money to do so. He still has so many things he would like to see and so many places he would like to visit.
He would have a chance to do it all.
Of course it would hurt, but he would live.

They all would live and be so much happier without me.

Because I'm not pretty,
I don't have a good personality,
Everything is my fault,
I'm not enough,
I'm not smart,
And all I do is cause them pain.