Pieces Of Me [an online journal of sorts]

Entry 1 2 8: vent

"I'm here if you need someone to talk to" is a phrase I have many complicated feelings about, mainly because I have very rarely gained anything from talking about my problems with anyone. Or maybe that's on me because I rarely ever talk about them at all. But my point still stands either way.

I know it helps some people, or maybe even most people, to have a confidant, but for me it's always felt like a let down. Maybe I don't talk often or even occasionally about the things that bother me, but maybe I want to and feel like I can't. It's stupid. I'm stupid. All my problems are stupid. That's the whole reason I keep my mouth shut. But that doesn't mean they're still not problems to me. Sometimes I know I'm in the wrong, okay? I make my choices with full awareness of the consequences. Regret is not my issue here. My problem is I hate myself and I wish I could say that out loud without people jumping to try and convince me otherwise because I end up having to take it with a smile to reassure them and what's the point then? I hate myself in secret now. Is that what you wanted?

I sound so ungrateful, I know. I know. But I hate myself. What part of that is hard to understand. I'm not going to start unhating myself because you don't. Do you know how I feel when people say they think I'm cool, or that I'm nice? Or when they tell me I love you or I miss you? It makes me think: You don't know me. If you really knew me, you wouldn't say that at all. It's just a deeply uncomfortable situation for me—but again I smile and try not to protest, at least not too strongly, because it's annoying, right? Someone who can't take a compliment is annoying. Someone who won't return your i love yous and i miss yous with earnest acceptance is more than annoying. They're cruel. Which makes me annoying and cruel—and I know that now. I imagine it must hurt really badly to tell someone, repeatedly, that you care for them and for them not to believe you. I know I've hurt someone or maybe many people by this, but I can't take it back or apologize, because I'm annoying and I'm cruel and I hate myself.

Which brings me back to the main issue of me not being able to talk to people about my problems: it's hard. So incredibly hard. I can't tell a friend anything because I know they'd rush to give me all the reasons why I shouldn't feel this way about myself, which is well-intentioned, I know, but I just. I can never believe it. And I'm not looking for reassurance anyway. Sometimes you just wanna let out the words crowding your thoughts. Sometimes it's nice to have someone just listen, even when your problems are stupid. Or maybe especially when they're stupid. I'm aware people deal with much bigger, heavier things. That's why I'm not asking anyone to comfort me. Just listen to me talk about my stupid problems without making me feel stupid about talking about them. Maybe that's a tall order.

Or worse, they offer solutions when I don't want them to, which is always. It was never about that anyway. I'm not looking for a fix because, again, I hate myself and, as a result, have no incentive to make anything better for myself. You can't help a person who doesn't want to help themselves, and all that. I don't think I'm worth helping at all. This is obviously not something you'd tell a loved one because you might as well grab a kitchen knife and stab them in the heart while you're at it.

This whole post is a mess. Even I'm not entirely sure what's the point I'm trying to make. The whole reason I started writing this is because I posted a vent tweet. Something about how uncomfortable it makes me when people say they miss me and how it feels like a lie because I don't think there's anything about me that's worth missing. Obviously, I knew my friends would see, and maybe I should've posted that here instead, but I'm tired, okay? I'm tired of feeling like I can't just say how I feel without people telling me I'm wrong to feel that way. Well-intentioned, yes, I'm deeply aware, but it just... It just makes me feel small and dumb, like I shouldn't have even said anything at all. Which is how I felt when one of my friends replied with "this is dumb. i miss you and now tell me i'm lying too so i can come over and hit you." Almost word-for-word, that's what she said. And I get it. She meant to make me feel better. She's one of my oldest friends. I get it, okay? I'm annoying and I'm cruel for never believing the nice things people say to me—but I. hate. myself.

I hate myself.

How much clearer do I need to make this.