This Is War

I feel a lot of anger towards her. She has no place, and no right to have one. She is weak. Unworthy. Useless. She is unreliable. She is an absolute mess. She’s fake. Boring. Fat. Broken. She is damaged. She is unmotivated. She is paralyzed. Paralyzed with fear, paralyzed at her place in life, paralyzed by shame. She deserves to be punished for being so fucking stupid. For all of the above. For being such a waste of skin. I’m sorry if she ever hurt or disappointed you. If you know her in real life, I know she has. I punish her for you, because I don’t know another way. I hate her. I can’t get away from her, so I make her suffer. I make her disappear. I’ve been doing so well lately, truly. Despite enough NSF’s to sink a small ship the last month. Despite every time I’d been tossed aside by a few of those I clearly care too much about. Why can’t my anger motivate me to push myself to create change and improve my circumstances, instead of just motivate me to retreat, wage wars on myself, self-medicate with a razor blade, and become even more weak and pathetic and useless than the day before? I’m so sick of this life. I’m so sick of this mind. I’m so sick of this body. I’m so sick of getting fucked, whether I deserve it or whether I don’t. I just want it to stop. It never stops..


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