What the hell is wrong with you? You are such a mess.
You don’t do enough… not for your friends, not for your family, not for yourself. Hell, you just don’t do enough of anything. You couldn’t find a job so now you’re stuck at home (current world issues aside because you were already stuck). You can’t get yourself to accomplish anything even though you have time. You have no ambition… no motivation… no confidence. And you keep telling yourself that you’re worthless.
People do need you, you know. I know you think no one would care if you vanished. You think most people wouldn’t even notice. But deep down, you must know that’s not true… don’t you? Don’t you?? You matter to people.
You just don’t matter to yourself.
You’re weak. You can’t pick yourself up. You’ve been trying for so long. And you fail every time. What now? Giving up? Hey, maybe that’s your answer. Give up. It’s too hard anyway, right? Forget about getting better. I know that’s not the answer you want. But no one has another answer… not even you. You feel that you simply cannot be helped. I understand why you feel that way. You’ve tried everything in your power. Granted, you’re level of power sucks, but you’ve done what you can. Even therapists give up on you. Maybe they’re right. Maybe there’s nothing anyone can do for you. Maybe you really can’t be helped.
Your weakness, your worthlessness, your pointlessness… these are the reasons why you look to others for validation. You don’t think you have any worth, so you need someone else to tell you that you do. I understand that. It’s pathetic… but I really do understand. I wish you could have that constant pick-me-up. Maybe if you’d married better, you would have that. But that was another of your failures.
Of course, it’s not really anyone’s job to build you up all the time. That kind of makes you a selfish bitch. You do realize that, right? You’re supposed to be able to build yourself up. You can’t, though. You tell yourself all sorts of wonderful things, but they don’t help because you don’t believe yourself. You believe that other people believe the things they say, and that builds you up. But you can’t do it on your own because you don’t trust yourself. I know why. You’ve made so many terrible choices. You’ve failed so many times. I wouldn’t trust myself either.
I’m not going to sugar coat it… I don’t like being around you. I don’t like you. I know it’s harsh… but it’s the truth.
p.s. — At least you used to be able to use all these fucked emotions to write. Poetry, especially. What happened to that? God, you are so fucking frustrating!