Why Not Fight?

6

It's 5 a.m. on Tuesday i'm in the bathtub with red eyes that looks upon my cold fat body. I've been in the bath for 2hrs with my razorblade. Slash after slash countiuously nonstop cutting at my thigh, arms and tummy I carved ugly into my skin. Sore and wet in major pain I flinch at my reflection. No one know that I hate my reflection. It makes me feel so lucks that I have Micheal. Some times I don't even know how I got here, maybe the self pity I think. I'm just really fuck up. How can you think yourself in to hurting yourself. Do you know how worthless and weak this makes me feel how when I think about why I should not be sad or that I might not be ugly I think about my dad's words. I go over every thing he's ever said to me about me. Reading my identity through his lips I payed close attention. I cherish much of everything he's ever said to me the first time ,cause then he lies. Yah no some time he say's I'm beautiful every time he comes across and article about teenage self image or strong male role model in their daughters or sons lives. And if I'm lucky my father tells me I'm smart ,when I told him that I grouped with someone that can do the work more effectively because we can't have too stupid people on our team and laugh. An remembered on every account that every punch or tackle or strangle he's every put me that he came into my room and apologize ,then weeks later in another argument he calls my grandmother says I made him do it and I'm crazy when I destroy some shit OR explode then smile after words because smiling is the second way I cope. An in the end scoop some self respect from the end less dark pit of shit loads I'm suppose to have stored somewhere safe on top of the refigerater when he complains to others how I don't have any to his friends on top of what I'm put though with my bf and me and the kids I realize I might not be that pathetic. Because the only thing my father hasn't said was that I'm UGLY. Maybe he mentioned that I would be pregnant on section 8 , I was a Bitch, Pig , Slut, Fat , Worthless, or that I needed to learn how to do my womanly duties to be able to find a men to even love or like me or that I kept the house to dirty due to my slack, And thats why I cant get any one upstairs and other mean remarks. Until recently I was thinking maybe he wasn't good enough to be my dad. With every thing he did after my mom died when I was 2. I use to think it was out of his pity or a sense of guilt he held for us not having had the privilege to have a mother or maybe he stayed cause we was the last of her or he worked so hard and long hours 2 give us what we need and more. Then again with all that in the back of my mind, with my rude attitude with my father and all the argument started by my words and actions stated from my grandmother and cousin from my dad's account. I started to think maybe I wasn't good enough for him, my dad if I wasn't good enough for my dad. Maybe I drove him mentally and physically. Away with the I want u to show me love not buy me love. And was a disipointment. How would I be good enough for Micheal or any friend I may gain through out my years i thought. So I sat down again in my tub letting the red tub water drain, plugged it and started again. Running freezing cold water It's 5 a.m on Tuesday im in the bathtub with red eyes that looks upon my cold fat body slash after slash after slash. I realized what I was..... A Failure.