I’m Thinking Of Reasons Why I Liked You. It’s Because I Didn’t Think Bad About Myself When I Was

“Have you ever had to get through a day, smiling at people, talking, as if everything were normal and okay, while all the the time you felt like you were carrying a leaden weight of unhappiness inside you?”

— Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation (via books-n-quotes)

I’m nothing. I’m nothing but a waste of space. A annoyance. A burden. A failure. A disability. A disorder. A freak. A monster. A unlovable. Unwanted. Worthless piece of garbage that will always be just that. Nothing at all.

“My love for you burned brighter than any other flame, but you were too distracted by pretty candlelight and glowing embers to even notice.”

— Flame / Unrequited Love

It’s sad to think I’ve grown so used to this by now..I’m used to waking up wishing I was dead..I’m used to hating food.. I’m so used to hating every inch of myself.. I’m used to hating this family.. I’m used to being used like a lap dog..I’m used to crying alone at night.. I’m used to being left alone and abandoned.. I’m used to being worn down until I’m completely burnt out.. I’m used to being the ugly one. The fat one. The retarded one.the annoying one.the worthless good for nothing fuck up no one wants...I’m used to thinking of ways to kill myself..I’m used to wishing a I was dead... I’m so used to it all..that there are weeks I won’t cry while wanting to slice myself apart..that I don’t think I could exist any other way...it’s sad to think I’m so used to this disgusting existence...

“It’s sad, isn’t it? You grow up thinking that love is some wonderful force that will somehow fix everything wrong in the world. You were taught fairytales and happily ever after’s and about princes and princesses. But no one ever told you that love hurts more often than not. No one tells you the pain of unrequited love or the crying at three in the morning, wondering why you weren’t enough. No one told you the harsh reality of letting go when all you wanted to do was hold on. No one told you the absolute torture of watching someone slowly fall out of love with you. Because no one wants to admit that something that was thought to be so beautiful could go so wrong.”

— The Poetic Boy

I hate myself so much