I feel really fat. All the time. And I feel really guilty whenever I eat anything. I know I don't have the willpower to NOT eat, which is why I don't try. Maybe it's just a distorted image of myself. I don't know. According to BMI charts, I'm a normal weight. But I feel fat and ugly and disgusting. I take up too much space. Space that other people deserve to have.
I'm clingy. Dependent on others. If I don't have the people I care most about, I feel isolated and lost. I'm a bitch to the people who know about my depression and still care about me and are willing to stick by me when I vent. I can't express my gratitude even when I cry all over them. I'm a failure, a whimp, an idiot. I'm lazy. I can't bring myself to care about things the way I used to, when I was young. I hate myself.
And I'm a liar. My psychologist always asks me whether my meds are working. They are, in a sense. I feel like absolute shit when I don't take them (tried it once, by accident, decided to never do it again). But I still spend a lot of the time feeling like crap nowadays. It seemed to help more in the beginning than it does now. But I can't bring myself to tell her I feel like crap and hate myself as much as ever.
I don't know who I am anymore. That disturbs me. I've known who I am and what I liked and what I was like. Now I'm finally beginning to control more of my life. I'm going to boarding school- that was my decision, and what I do there will also be my decision. But it's made me realise- I don't know what's me and not me anymore. Am I really a perfectionist? I know I strive for perfection. But is it because of my inner drive or because I've absorbed the expectations of others and over time it's become me? I'm more inclined to that. The pressure is too much. I can't be perfect all the time. But I can't stop putting the pressure on myself because I know others expect me to be a certain person. I've literally taken in their feelings and made them mine, and I hate it. I'm afraid of failing because of them. Same with me doing original oratory. I hate the event. I hate it with a burning passion. I didn't even want to do it that much. The coach just randomly stuck me in oratory. HE DOESN'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ME OTHER THAN MY NAME, HE'S AN IRRESPONSIBLE ASSHOLE, AND HE NEVER DOES ANYTHING FOR THE TEAM. Thing is, I thought I wanted to do it in the beginning. But now I don't know. Did I want to join the speech and debate team because my parents expect me to, or did I want to join it because I wanted to join it from the beginning? I hate public speaking, so I highly doubt it was my idea fully. As far as I can remember, my parents were always comparing me to the daughter of a close family friend, who's now a senior going to Stanford. She did oratory. She did a competitive science research program offered by my current school. I'm interested in the research, but my parents pushed me to do it because of the competition. And all of a sudden, I wanted to do the competition. But now, looking back, I know I don't.
I'm so confused. And upset. And...and...I don't know.
And I want to cut real bad. I know I shouldn't, but I am on the verge of not caring anymore. I'm such a hypocrite- telling my friends they shouldn't cut no matter what while I'm yearning to do the same exact thing.
God I feel like a screw up. I wish something would just...kill me now. I don't have the courage (or the means) to do the job myself.
I'm clingy. Dependent on others. If I don't have the people I care most about, I feel isolated and lost. I'm a bitch to the people who know about my depression and still care about me and are willing to stick by me when I vent. I can't express my gratitude even when I cry all over them. I'm a failure, a whimp, an idiot. I'm lazy. I can't bring myself to care about things the way I used to, when I was young. I hate myself.
And I'm a liar. My psychologist always asks me whether my meds are working. They are, in a sense. I feel like absolute shit when I don't take them (tried it once, by accident, decided to never do it again). But I still spend a lot of the time feeling like crap nowadays. It seemed to help more in the beginning than it does now. But I can't bring myself to tell her I feel like crap and hate myself as much as ever.
I don't know who I am anymore. That disturbs me. I've known who I am and what I liked and what I was like. Now I'm finally beginning to control more of my life. I'm going to boarding school- that was my decision, and what I do there will also be my decision. But it's made me realise- I don't know what's me and not me anymore. Am I really a perfectionist? I know I strive for perfection. But is it because of my inner drive or because I've absorbed the expectations of others and over time it's become me? I'm more inclined to that. The pressure is too much. I can't be perfect all the time. But I can't stop putting the pressure on myself because I know others expect me to be a certain person. I've literally taken in their feelings and made them mine, and I hate it. I'm afraid of failing because of them. Same with me doing original oratory. I hate the event. I hate it with a burning passion. I didn't even want to do it that much. The coach just randomly stuck me in oratory. HE DOESN'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ME OTHER THAN MY NAME, HE'S AN IRRESPONSIBLE ASSHOLE, AND HE NEVER DOES ANYTHING FOR THE TEAM. Thing is, I thought I wanted to do it in the beginning. But now I don't know. Did I want to join the speech and debate team because my parents expect me to, or did I want to join it because I wanted to join it from the beginning? I hate public speaking, so I highly doubt it was my idea fully. As far as I can remember, my parents were always comparing me to the daughter of a close family friend, who's now a senior going to Stanford. She did oratory. She did a competitive science research program offered by my current school. I'm interested in the research, but my parents pushed me to do it because of the competition. And all of a sudden, I wanted to do the competition. But now, looking back, I know I don't.
I'm so confused. And upset. And...and...I don't know.
And I want to cut real bad. I know I shouldn't, but I am on the verge of not caring anymore. I'm such a hypocrite- telling my friends they shouldn't cut no matter what while I'm yearning to do the same exact thing.
God I feel like a screw up. I wish something would just...kill me now. I don't have the courage (or the means) to do the job myself.