It’s no secret that I am overwhelmed by life right now; struggling to roll with the punches. And I don’t know how much longer I can keep everything bottled in. That misery and excruciating pain, those feelings of insecurity slowly but surely gnawing away at my insides, eating me alive with vigor and intensity, savouring each tedious bite with passion, threatens to spill out into the open.
But alas, those silent cries for mercy and surrender would go unnoticed anyway.
And oh how I loathe those who cause me such unnecessary discomfort.
I despise how they diminish me so dexterously with pointed looks and fatal words. I despise how they continually stress how irrelevant and insignificant I am in their eyes. I loathe how they make me weep daily; at times uncontrollably and with lament. And like psychic vampires, I detest how easily they ransack my good vibes and positive energy. I despise how they frequently condemn the girl I’ve become, my true self, the one that has taken a lifetime to embrace. Worst yet, forcefully convincing me that everything I am is vile; that my sheer existence is vulgar. Suggesting that what matters most is on the outside, not the beauty that radiates from within. I loathe that I have to mislead them about who I am, who I spend my time with and what I spend my time doing because to them that existence is erroneous. I loathe that they find clever ways to remind me of how badly I am doing in this life. Comparing me to how far others have come and how little I have and have done. I despise how they’ve convinced me into believing that I am not enough and will never be either. I loathe that they judge not only myself but innocent passersby solely on appearance. Distorting truths and creating lies that one needs to be a certain size, look a certain way and live a certain lifestyle to be deemed acceptable and loveable in society. I loathe that they state this as fact and deem me unfitting of good things because I do not conform nor fit into their beliefs.
Most of all I hate that I freely grant them power and I hate that I can’t seem to destroy those damaging ties.
I hate that I have to listen to snide remarks and then allow them to affect me so. I hate those feelings of insecurity, loneliness and unworthiness that stem from being in their company and that flood and plague me internally. I hate that I constantly compare myself to others and I hate that I’ve developed this deleterious habit. I hate that I modify who I am in their presence, analysing words prior to passing through lips. I hate that I live my life shrouded in mystery; the good, the bad and the detrimentally painful. I hate that they kick me while I’m down but worst still, how aware of this they are and yet continually choose to hurt me.
I hate that they don’t and won’t understand me. I hate how they believe they are doing no wrong. How they don’t and can’t see the error of their misguided ways. And I hate that they are irrevocably oblivious to the pain they cause.
I hate that I make excuses for them.
And I hate that I still wish them well and want to make them happy and proud.