Failure

Standard

I’m a failure. No doubt. I went home. I didn’t stay. I dream of things that only normal people can have. I have relapsed into my ED and cutting. My family allows me to live here but are unsupportive and drunks. I wanna drink and drown everything out but I cut and not eat instead. But when I do allow myself to drink one day I’m going to get hammered I bet… So I just don’t drink unless it’s a glass of wine.

I dream of doing normal things, like having a family or kids, but I know that it’s improbable bc of my disorder. I can’t live with myself and I can’t with without anyone. But I can’t live with anyone without being able to love myself. So here I am alone and helpless… Suicidial again. How do I go to work and put a smile on when I have this hate inside myself? I just want it to be over… What’s the point of living if living is a prison in my mind? And no one can fix it but me and I don’t know how. I have no control over anything and I’m finding it hard to get out of bed again. I hate myself.

I just want to curl up in a ball and stare into nothingness. I can’t shake this funk. But when I have I ever been able to? Even when I was there I probably was just putting on a face to make it happy. But I can’t do it on my own. I can’t be happy on my own. Idk how. I’m stuck in this awful world inside my head that no one loves me, but I can’t live unless someone loves me… So it’s a conundrum of wanting love that I don’t believe is there…

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