I beat myself up like shit. I hate it.
Words. What people say doesn't bother me in the first place. Its the anxiety that comes in later that does.
Yes, people are mean. But we are meaner to ourselves. The devil and the fire inside our minds burn the oil on the pain. Most times, i find the one pushing me to the edge was myself. And nothing can stop it from coming. Its not easy. Like saving a family member from dying of brain cancer when you know its coming.
All the mental breakdowns, the depression, the self harm i put myself through was because im sick. Im sick in my head. I hate myself. But i hated the people who made me like this more.
I never told anyone i had episodes of depression too many times, so hard it got to the point where i had to hurt myself to keep myself stable. That time, i didn't even realize i was hurting myself. I just wanted to keep the thoughts away. But like i said, they always stay.
Well, at least now somebody knows
