Stupid piece of sh*t

Trigger warning: severe self hate.

title taken from Bojack Horseman season 4 episode 6

written almost two months ago and updated since

Friday night. 10.03. Have work at 8 tomorrow morning. Why aren't you asleep? Stupid. You should be asleep. You don't want to be falling asleep during your trial shift, do you? Especially not after that embarrassing moment in the interview. Yeah, good job, you little sh*t. They'll really want to hire you now.

If they do hire you, will you have enough energy for all of the stuff you have to do? Does it even matter? Even when you have energy, you blow it on useless shit like Netflix or reading fantasy novels. Useless. Waste of space.

Why is it that when you cry you only have enough tears for about ten minutes?

You're not ready for therapy. You don't actually want to fix yourself. You want to keep using your mental illnesses as excuses for why you're a piece of sh*t. Idiot. Whatever you want is the opposite of what others want from you. I'm convinced you do it on purpose.

You're terrible at communicating, at compromising, at listening. You're selfish. You blame yourself as a coping mechanism because it's easier than sticking up for yourself, easier to blame yourself rather than recognising that some people don't like you for reasons you can't control. Stop doing that. You can't, can you? Because you're a piece of sh*t.

10.09. Regretting what you put on your Instagram story. Wanting to delete it but then everyone who's already seen it will know you've deleted it. Worthless. Can't you ever make a decision without worrying about what someone else will think? Be selfish. I dare you. Figure out what you want and do it unapologetically. You pretend to do that now but it's all a facade. You like people to think you're independent and unapologetic but the truth is you're desperate for their approval and will bend yourself over backwards to get it. Sycophant. Hypocrite. Piece of sh*t.

god i need my pooh bear

You don't deserve your pooh bear. There wasn't room for it in the boxes, anyway. You have eight small stuffed animals, isn't that enough? And five pillows. Sure, three of them aren't big enough to cuddle, but you can make do. You're not allowed to be unhappy. It was your decision to leave pooh bear behind.

You're a joke. Anything that hurts you is your fault. You make everything about you and you ruin everyone else's fun. You're not even a good cellist. And your feet smell bad. Your scalp is flaky. Your eyes have bags under them, and your skin is dry. Stop crying, you piece of sh*t, you'll just make people feel sorry for you when there's no need to. You don't deserve their sympathy. You did this to yourself.

wow holy sh*t what happened this is much worse than i was a week ago

today someone said to me that having children is unethical because it's bringing another human into the world without their consent, and that f*cking hurts because i don't want to be here

i have two kinds of crying: silent and noisy

(ah yes, the two genders)

no one reads this, until the one time they do read it when they're looking to hire me and they realise “uh no actually, she's crazy" because god forbid anyone gender me correctly

All of your friends are tired of you complaining about your depression. They won't tell you because they're scared to piss you off, scared of making you lash out. You're just like your father. You've been so scared all this time that you'll turn into your parents, and you've let it happen anyway. You piece of sh*t.