I don't feel like anyone understands me. I don't know of anyone who does. If they do understand me, if they just happen to "get" where I'm coming from...then they won't have anything to do with me, which is most people. I don't think people like me. I am extremely unlikeable. I am a very bitter, demented, pathetic human being. This is fact, believe it. I am weak-willed and will probably be very angry when I cruise back in here and see that no one or only very few have responded to me, like often happens here. (probably just low traffic, but I trust myself to take it personally and grow further convinced that no one likes me). I feel it can be felt even through my text: my complete distastefulness, my deepening bitterness, my complete unintelligibility. As said before, no one ever seem to understand. I dont' know if I can live my entire life feeling this alone. I would rather be dead than be alone for the rest of my life, a detestable nothing. I am an over-dramatic, whining infant inside, but no one ever sees it. I would prefer to do anything than fully reveal that weak, disgusting, needy little brat. I would rather cut myself. I would rather kill myself. No one deserves to see it, no one can help me, no one can save me, and I'm sick of trying to lift myself up. I can't do it anymore. I can't do it all on my own. It seems to be what the universe demands of me, me alone. Just me myself and I trying to figure out how to get through this hellhole by ourselves. I never consult another, unless you count shitty therapist, who doesn't even seem aware of the fact that we avoid the issues at every turn. She avoids the issues. She avoids them, because I am so horrendous and gross that she will even turn her face away when I try to bring something up that really means something to me. Or perhaps it is seen as trivial to her. Or upsetting to her. I think it upsets her and she doesn't know how to handle it, then projects that upset onto me. Because I tried to bring up the fact that I felt tempted to cut myself, and she actually CHANGED THE SUBJECT. I even confronted her on this, and she just said, "well, I was afraid it would upset you more to talk about it blah blah blah." And I thought, "Upset me, or upset you? YOU FUCKING BITCH!!!" I don't ever say that, though. I just leave her office in a storm and lock myself in a bathroom thrashing my body/shoulders against the door of my stall in some attempt to make up for the fact that I can't hurt myself (didn't bring any SI tools, I try not to leave the house with them now). So, I had nothing to hurt myself with but my own anger, and I managed to give myself a satisfactory neck-ache with my temper tantrum alone in that bathroom stall. We haven't brought this up again. I don't know how to confront people, and her stupid ways are just beginning to exacerbate my self-doubt and hatred. But, what doesn't really? My father is the real problem. I used to think it'd either be me or him, but so far it's just me. He causes enough harm to himself, anyway. I don't need to move it along. I'm sure no one will even bother to read this, and if you do, apologies for my total lack of faith in it having much effect upon me. I feel like I could cry and scream and carry on forever, on display for the whole world, and it would change nothing for me. Some small antecdotal "get help, it'll be okay" just isn't gonna do it for me. I've been through almost a dozen therapists, and maybe it's just my sorry luck, but they've all sucked. I think, I start to wonder, that it's not them, it's just me who sucks. My father is a complete asshole, btw. Fucker must think he's god or something. I will be very annoyed if my emoting is censored on here, too.