[ai3786]

Well I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell.

I kind of seriously hate myself right now. It's a familiar feeling; it's not the first time and it won't be the last. I keep hurting myself in these little petty ways; keep messing up my own life, and the familiarity is both soothing and infuriating. You'd think I'd've learned by now. You'd think I'd be able to (1) recognize the signs (which I did and always do, every time, it's just that) and (2) do something about them (which I don't, because sometimes I'm a pathetic looser). It's so easy to tell myself that next time I'll do better, that I won't fall into the same pattern again, that *next time* I'll do everything right, I'll keep myself from doing anything stupid, I'll, I'll. Yeah. And then of course next time becomes this time and I watch myself waste time second by second until there's nothing left, until I'm right where I was the last time and the time before that and the time before that: hating myself and knowing that it's my own fault and promising myself that I'll do better, that I'll *be* better and knowing deep down where nothing can ever reach, no one can ever touch, that I won't, because sometimes it's easier to fail and hate myself, because that I means I deserve to be punished, that there is something I deserve to be punished *for*, that all the useless, helpless hurt is not pointless, is not random, has a purpose behind it. It's easier to live with it that way, I think. It's easier to take the pain knowing there is a reason for it. I don't believe in god (or God or anything like that, really) but I need to believe in something. Life doesn't make sense, so I try to make it make sense by any means necessary.
Which is all well and good and also mostly psycho-babble bullshit. Because really I know that I'm better than that, I've proved that I am capable of being better than that and stronger than that; it's just that right now I'm not feeling it. Right now I'm feeling weak and useless and pathetic, and I'm writing again, which means I hurt too much not to, and I'm sleeping too much (twenty hours out of twenty-four is *not* healthy), and I'm thinking things that boil down to "dark" and "blood" and "pain" and that's never, ever a good sign for me. I need to get through this. I know I can because I've done it before, though it wasn't easy and I didn't do it on my own. I want Steve back in my life, but that's not going to happen, so. I need to stop being an emo angsty teenager and start acting (if not necessarily feeling) like an adult. Since that's what I am. Sort of.

I really, really need to stop doing this to myself.

A New Years' resolution, honey girl?
Yeah, maybe. Starting *next time*, of course.