The never-ending series of guilt and loneliness.

I feel guilty almost every single day, and it weighs me down quite heavily because guilt, as one may already know, is a very strong emotion. Often times, I feel guilty whenever I take the time to express how someone's words hurt me, especially when the person whose words affected me deeply happens to be a family member of mine. For example, when my mom gets upset over the fact that there's still a lot of food on the table and it hasn't been completely finished (even though there's tons of time in the world for us to finish it), I end up feeling guilty and unsurprisingly force myself to eat everything even though I really don't want to eat and just want to go to sleep and she shouldn't have bought more food than usual because she herself barely eats half of it. My brothers don't stress about it as much but I feel far too guilty to lay in bed and sleep at night without doing what I can.

Or like that one time where she got very upset and called me stupid because her plants wilted a little while she was away and I apparently didn't water them properly (I really tried and I woke up early just to do all these chores). I felt very guilty and then came the hatred I had for myself reminding me how disappointing I am and how I don't deserve to breathe air because I couldn't even keep a plant alive and healthy. I still blame myself, because it is my fault, and I deserve to be called stupid because I am.

Honestly I don't know why I bother, she'd never say that my efforts were appreciated or that i've done a good job, because doing your best will never be enough.

Perhaps I may be in denial but I can't stop myself from shifting the blame to me rather than accepting the fact that some people like my loved ones who've kept me in their care for several years, can in fact hurt my feelings sometimes. I blame myself for not being good enough, for upsetting them, for being hurt by their words and for anything that causes me pain because I hate myself far too much to be able to believe otherwise.

I feel guilty for not being better, for not being enough, and this guilt makes me feel very heavy to the point where I can't breathe without feeling pain because my heart hurts. Sometimes I feel like screaming though I rarely talk and my voice barely reaches above a whisper on the daily, sometimes I feel like I might just loose myself and do something when the guilt gets too much.

I can't talk about how I feel to my friends because I only have one legitimate friend and i've already burdened her far too much and I don't want to end up being toxic by troubling her with my concerns when she probably has just as much to worry about in her own life.

Everywhere I look, I just feel alone, the people that i'm supposed to be able to lean on are the people I can barely even look at in the eye. Still I dream of a day where I can just break down infront of someone, I feel bad because that would be very burdensome, but I still wish to have one person in my life that can see the true horror that lives in my soul because I can't hold all this pain and grief forever. For now i'm alone, and though many people may say otherwise, they often don't know what they mean by saying that.

Pointless words and repetitive advice won't change the way I think, but it would make me quite a terrible person to tell that to people when they do so, right?

Sometimes I feel like i'm okay, that i'm really alright and that it's all just a silly thing thing I trouble myself with, but then i'd feel off. I can't tell anymore, can't tell if I actually am alright or if the underlying negative emotion that lingers is what I truly feel.

Aha, I hate myself, I wonder if my mother and father would shed tears if they knew how I felt. Is that even possible? Would they actually feel such emotion if they were to know? It doesn't matter either way, they'll never know, and I know that. For the rest of my life I will forever be a disappointment, though they don't say it, I can see it in them that they're disappointed at how their beautiful and lively child grew to be nothing but a blank being who barely opens their mouth to talk.

I will never be someone who they can be proud of, and that makes me wonder why I need to exist.

Still I live, every day, I mean what choice do I have? That's the only thing worthy of a pat on the back because holy hell, living is hard.

Living is hard, but i'm not really living, i'm just alive hoping that someone might just see through me one day.

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