An Epiphany

I had a pretty profound thought the other day. I don't hate my life. Other people probablt think this everyday, being perfectly happy with their lives. This is not the case for me. Actually, it's almost the complete opposite. I realized I couldn'e hat e my life. My life was what I had made it, I had no one to blame but myself. My poor decisions and stupid mistakes had led me here. I realized I shouldn't be hating my life, I should be hating the thing responsible for my life. Myself. I've always hated myself. Well, maybe not always, but for a while now that's how it's been. This new hate was different. I hated my body and the way I felt in it. I hated the way my hair fell on my shoulders and how curled in opposite directions. but this new hat of myslef was different. I hated my mind, the only good thing I had left. My mind betrayed me, not warning me properly about all the stupid things I've done. My mind was responsible for the way my life has turned out. My stupid, twisted, warped mind. If only people hadn't of played with it when I was younger. The way they dragged me back and forth from one thing to the next. My poor mind had finally had enough and now it was giving up on me. It wanted to call it quits, take the easy way out. I no longer knew right from wrong. I only knew what felt good and what didn't. It felt good to not do my work, to not care how I looked when I left for school in the morning. It was horrible taking responsibilty and helping others. I just wanted to curl up in a ball and never talk to anyone. Conversations were painful, seeming too forced on my side, and people knew that, so they just left me alone. My mind was lost, is lost.