Destined To Break

Self Pity

I have never particularly liked myself. At first I was sceptical. I'd look at myself and attempt to draw a conclusion on what I thought. Did I conform to the popular opinion of me being a failure, a mistake, a screw up? Or did I stand alone with my own hope of being something else, of being good?

As time flew by and my youthful innocence was snatched from me by depression so was my naive belief in myself, so was any minuscule thought or hope that people were wrong. I was left with the bitter realisation of my worth. I caught a glimpse of my own reflection in the knife my friends used to stab me in the back. When my last defence fell, when my friends joined the brutal army battering at my defences in order to destroy any last spark of hope or will to carry on, then all I saw was a weak, mess of a girl, a shadow. A once promising and bright young child dulled and twisted by the harsh reality and brutal treatment she had been subjected to.

There's nothing worse then self hate and self pity. You begin to push those that remain out because you think one day they'll leave you. You start to become so guarded, so withdrawn you don't even act like yourself anymore. I became so angry at everything, I attacked every tiny thing that annoyed me because I couldn't cope. Because everything grated on my nerves. I ended up pushing all I had left away and now I'm not sure how to feel. Relieved that they've escaped my crumbling existence and can live on, my demise not affecting them? Or horrified at the thought that I hurt them, disgusted at myself for doing so and absolutely devastated at losing the one thing worth living for?

All of this made me think. I have lived, cried, fought, loved and so much more yet has it all been in vein? Despite my best attempts to survive it's always thwarted. Something always crops up to destroy any budding happiness within me. It's like I'm destined to be forever alone. Like I'm destined to suffer alone and in silence until I finally gather the courage to rid the world of myself once and for all. Its like I'm destined to feel pain so deep it cuts like the razor I keep under my pillow. It's like I'm destined to spend my nights crying myself to sleep and my days avoiding conflict and trying to stop the tremors that wrack through my body like after shocks of an earthquake, try and stop my breath from hitching and being trapped within my lungs as I begin to hyperventilate, try to stop the meltdowns and panic attacks. It's like I'm destined to be perceived as a bitch, that when it comes down to it that side is what people see and remember, they give no thought to anything else I have done. It's like all my attempts are worthless. It's like I'm destined to fall apart, destined to break.