When I was a lot younger, I pretty much ruined my own life.
Repeatedly, I blamed other people and shut myself away. I stopped eating, stopped socialising, shut myself in the house and blamed other people for not liking me. Not that I ever gave them anything to like. I became convinced the world was against me and that there was no help for me. I convinced myself I was useless, ugly, not good enough at anything. I turned on myself, and let myself wallow in self-pity, indulging these stupid thoughts.
I found an old myspace profile today. One I made aged 17, when I had stopped eating, had no friends and spent all my time sat at the computer. I had online friends who made me feel somewhat valid, but that was it. I read my 'bio' and cried. I can't believe I ever let myself get in that state, and worse of all, I can't believe I'm still there. Not all the time, but sometimes, on days like today when I hate myself and feel all those things again and want to stand and scream at the whole world to just fuck off.
I hate myself for hating myself. I thought I had come so far, and whilst the teenage angst has definitely died down, the underlying feelings are still there. The feelings that I'm not getting anywhere, that everyone else is better/doing better than me, the fact that I am, somehow, actually, not really welcome here.
At least at that age I was pretty. I didn't realise it at the time but looking back at the photos, I was actually beautiful.
I need to sort myself out again. I've really gone downhill since Christmas and it's been years since I've felt this bad.
I think I had too much spare time on holiday in which to think...
(I'm sorry this is so teenagey-pessimisticy-narcisismy, but I needed a rant. I know I've had a lot of rants recently, but this is the only place I can do it and I really, really do need to vent).