There's a little worm in my head who tells me to kill myself. I call him the Mind Goblin because I think it's funny, and personifying the thought make them easier to ignore or quell. The Mind Goblin can strike at anytime, and strikes pretty constantly. I'll remember some cringe thing I did in middle school or I make some small mistake and immediately he's like "ah you should kill yourself." and I'm typically like " ahh shut the fuck up you stupid idiot goblin, what do you know?" Lately though, it's been harder to argue with the Mind Goblin, he keeps me up at night, he's in my ear all day, and he gets louder and louder.
"remember what you did? How can you live with yourself?" and he's right. How can I live with myself. "You have no hope, nothing keeping you here anymore" and he's right, because the state of the world these days doesn't give me much future to look forward to, and it'd be a while probably before anyone noticed I was gone besides my direct family. "What do you go on fighting for?" he says more eloquently than he's spoken in years.
"well Mind Goblin I've got a dog, I have a family who depends on me"
"You can't even care for the dog, nor can you afford it, and truly all you do is burden your family. All you do is hurt the ones you care for." And he's right. For ages I haven't recognized the person I see in the mirror, but now I do, she's a monster. A twisted fucked up bitch, who hurts the ones she cares for the most because of a low personal regard. I've always known I didn't really care much about what happened to me, but I didn't realize that it translates to not really giving a shit about anyone around me. I can sort of... halfheartedly care. When it comes down to it though, she's a selfish bastard who ruins lives and makes people cry. I'm a selfish bastard who makes people cry, I'm the monster, the twisted bitch, the malice incarnate. I don't know why I'm like this, all I know is that I've loathed myself so much, for so long, and now everyone hates me just as much as I do. Who's supposed to be in my court cheering me on? Me? I can't stand the bitch. My mom? Her poor soul can't take the truth, she tries to make up excuses for what I've done, of course she does. That's what mothers do. The good news is that even if everyone does hate me now (and rightfully so) there isn't really anything they can say to me that will hurt much. Insults hurled at me have never really stung because there isn't anything folks can say to me that I haven't already said at night staring into the mirror, or heard from the mouth of my father before he beat me. No truly the only things that can hurt me are people expressing disappointment in me. That cuts deep, because I'd sell my soul to please others I hold dear, and even so I manage to upset them, make them hate me. I've never really handled disappointment well, or people leaving me behind. I'd rather let my shoes go untied than fall behind on a walk. When my boyfriend dumped me I begged him to stay, I told him I'd change everything about myself to please him, I told him that he could get back at me, to hit me, that I was sorry, that I loved him, I didn't want to beg because that's not right. It's his decision, but thought maybe I could sway it if I just said the right thing. Unfortunately I know the truth. I would try to change, I would try to please him, and I would fail. I'd slip back to my old ways, become an old bitter bitch again, and I don't want that for him. He deserves someone who isn't horrible like me, who doesn't hate themselves like me, and who wouldn't hurt him like I did.
Here's something I tend to think about, which I don't enjoy, but I think about anyways. The definition of a narcissist is someone who hates themselves so fucking much they treat everyone else like dogwater to make themselves feel better, as well as become obsessed with themselves to make up for it, I know my father was raised by one, and he definitely had traits of narcissism. Something that Trevor, my old guitarist, used to say was that if you don't catch it in time, and you are raised by a narcissist, you can become one. Because you think it's normal, and that's just how people are. Do I take his words with a grain of salt because he also used me for 2 years and went behind my back to sleep with one of my friends ruining my relationship with him, the friend, and his relationship with his significant other? Yes, but I also think about how I was raised by a narcissist, and how much I hate myself, and how I counteract that by acting like I'm Big Dog, and King Shit of Fuck Mountain. I don't enjoy this little spiral staircase of a thought process, it concerns me. They say if you go through life meeting occasional assholes, that's normal, but if you go through life and everyone you meet is an asshole? You're the asshole. The problem is obviously with me. It seems everywhere I go and everything I do I find to be miserable. I hate it here, I hate it in Portland, I hated it in Lake Tapps. I wasn't happy out of a band, I wasn't happy in a band. I'm lonely single, and being in a relationship is seemingly too much to handle. It's like everywhere I go I'm just a miserable cunt masquerading as someone who gives half a fuck about what happens to them and the world because I'm too scared to kill myself. Before it was because I was afraid of death, now the only thing I'm afraid of is surviving. I ruin everything I touch, I go around breaking things, fucking things up, and wondering how it was possible, and who could have done this. I know why I hate myself so much, it's because I know what kind of person I am, and what kind of person I'd like to be, and they are opposites. I'm the exact type of person I claim to hate so much. I'm a hypocrite, I'm a bastard, I hurt people, I lie and cheat and ruin lives. All cause what, I don't care about myself? Like get real, shit or get off the pot. Have your dinner or your dessert but stop staring at the goddamn plate and whining about what you were served because at this point your food is moldy. Dinner is going to suck, and so will dessert, and you made the meal and you made your bed and now you must lie in it. Reap what you had so carelessly sewn or sell the fucking farm. I'm just so sick of feeling like this, I do it to myself every time, and I can't seem to stop it even when I try my hardest. I'm sick of feeling alone, and I'm sick of hating myself, and I'm sick of living with the guilt of my actions and I'm sick of trying to find the good within myself when it's so plainly not there. Who would really miss me in the long run, I've hurt so many that when they hear the news, or read my obituary, or whatever happens, they'll probably dance for joy. Ding dong the gator's dead! The small handful of people who would be sad outside of my family, hardly know who I am, save for maybe one friend I still have. Which of course I am forever thankful for, but I doubt they would stay my friend if they knew the truth about what I've done. I just can't take the guilt, it's crushing me. I can't live like this because this isn't living. Something has to change, but I know myself all too well. I know that I never really change in any way that matters. I'm still the same miserable bitch who did all those things and I will never wash my hands of it. What's the point of trying anymore? Nobody's even gonna read this stupid fucking blog anymore anyways! Because nobody cares anymore, and that's a good thing. Like I said I hurt everyone who cares for me, the only way I can keep other's safe is by keeping them at a distance, I've always known this. It's why so many of my friends used to consider me much closer than I to them. I can't let anyone in because then they'll see that monster inside, and they'll leave. I can't take anyone else leaving, so they won't be coming in. I still don't got the balls to off myself, I never have, so I deserve to live in solitude, no one but myself to torture me. It's honestly a worse punishment than death.
So what happens now? I've gone around with these feelings in my heart and my head for so long and now they're out here and I can see how bad it really is. I'm glad they're out, but they don't go away. Is this something my therapist can fix? Is this something that will go away with a change of location? I seriously doubt it. I just feel so alone, and cold. I truly feel so worthless and unworthy of joy and the gifts that life have to offer. What do I do? I don't fuckin know. I just want to cry and cry and cry, and tear my heart out and stab a knife through it. I want to tear all the shit off my walls and burn it all and shave a straight line thru my head and rip up all my clothes and get in my truck and start driving and don't stop till I can't recognize anything around me and I don't have enough gas to get back. I can't do any of those things though, my mom would get pretty upset. So I guess I'll... keep going to therapy, play the drums in dale's weird band, go to bars by myself, make arbitrary connections that never cut deeper than the surface. Hope? I guess, hope I change, hope for something better, hope to stop feeling miserable and hope that maybe someday in a few years I'll look back at this post and laugh and say oh how silly you were gator. If I can even make it 6 months.
Oh how I wish someone would help me, but Only I can help me. and I hate that bitch.
Sorry Everyone.
