I often feel the need to come here and vent. But I don't. Instead, I writhe inside of myself, chipping away. Lately, I have been in a terrible place in my mind. It is like I have fallen into this deep dark hole, and the only way I can overcome the depth is to just turn off entirely. Turning off is such a dangerous path for someone in my position. My smiles are forced and fake, myself...I am a stranger.
I can blame this on a few things; one, I haven't really dealt with my sisters death. Even if I have, I haven't dealt with the past leading up to it, my actions during her demise - selfish and just downright black. The person I became during that interaction was like becoming a ghost of myself. A shell. A ghost in the shell. Two, I never fully got over the death of my mom, and am harboring some strange anger against her. It is much alike being stuck in the stages of grief; I have never gotten out of the angry stage, and going through an entire new death just kind of allowed me to stay there a little longer, and use a basket to catch more anger in. At the end of the day, I only have one person to blame. I started to become like this long before my sister, my mom... maybe I have always been like this? Maybe I was always this unlikable monster, laying in wait to become in full bloom.
Don't get me wrong. Things bother me. I can't stand the cruelty of humanity. I don't like people hurting people. Race, religion, age, gender, preference. No matter the difference, the ugliness that people show against each-other, so obsessed with such stupid shit bothers me. I often turn my head from videos and news stories, simply because I can't stand the petty shit people choose as reasons to hurt one another. I care for kids, all of them. I cry for mourning mothers. My heart hurts for people all over the world. Sometimes, my pain for people is what reminds me I am still human.
But then there's the bitterness. It is so deep inside of me. Like a coiled snake. Everything in my life as I live it is false save very few things. I feel like a robot. Hell, sometimes I wish I was a robot. How easy life would be with that.
Maybe I wouldn't be feeling anything, but at least I wouldn't be faking it. I I could be superficial without being superficial. Mostly, I look at myself and recoil in disgust. My skin is terrible, I've got strange fat in places I wish I didn't. My hair isn't right. My nose is too fat. My legs are too short. My boobs are too small. I pick myself apart until I am convinced that who I am looking at in the mirror is by far most certainly the ugliest person I have ever seen in my entire life. Then, unhappily, I lash out at anyone who so much as talks to me. Because I won't cry. Oh no. Why would I? I don't deserve to cry, or hurt. I don't deserve love. I deserve nothing.
