I take you as a rejection.
I feel so small, incompetent. Yet so large, disgusting, and wrong.
I shouldn’t feel this way.
I got all dolled up (ish). My hair looks good. My makeup is flawless.
And you decide to come along.
You make me feel sick to my stomach. You make me want to curl up into a ball and cut myself. You make me want to swallow a million pills.
You upset me.
I’m weak because I let you get to me like this.
I hate myself right now.
I really just hate myself right now and I don’t feel like I can tell anyone.
I want to desperately tell someone. But I can’t bring myself to actually do it.
And it hurts.
I wish people would just ask every once and a while.
How are you feeling?
What’s been going on?
Just… check in on me.
And I’ve relapsed.
And I want him to know.
I hate myself.