"Watch the Corners" by Dinosaur Jr.
February 4, 2019 Monday 9:38 PM
I successfully stopped myself from crying! Which is good because I had a lot of work to do. Near-tears submitting an application, then finishing work for literature, then whatever, then whatever. I have to get up in the morning, I don't think I have a choice anymore. There's no time in the evenings and afternoons anymore.
Have I been feeling good? No. Very much no. I quite dislike myself. Nay... I'd say "dislike" is too mild a word. I hate myself, is what I'm trying to say. Like, a lot. I never want to be seen. Or read. Or whatever. I'm so stunted—by my own self-loathing. To the point where I can't think a good thought about myself. I spend a lot of my days—since like last week or the week before— just ignoring the buzzing in my head. The words and feelings, hurt and anxiety, everything just fuckin'—up there.
Was at a party and got too drunk this weekend. And I didn't mention this to Maria when I told her about it, but there was a boy there (a guy I know) and I was too touchy with him. He didn't seem to mind or anything, but I honestly felt disgusting at that moment and even more so when I was sober again. He said, "I like your hands," and nothing he said even meant anything—he's just so nice. He's too nice. I feel so bad for leaning on him like that. He clearly enjoyed it, but it wasn't okay. I mean—morally, I do not feel as if I wronged him. I violated my own boundaries, and what I am capable of doing at this stage in my emotional health. I fucked myself. And I always do this! It's a problem. It's because, in the end, it's what I want more than anything, is to touch people like I care about them. But I really, really don't.
And I don't want them looking at me because I'm disgusting. I'm too large and I think too much of myself and I say a lot of useless things into the air and it's not really worth it.
Basically, it was a terrible experience and I don't know how many times I have to do this to myself before I learn something. I don't even know how to begin—undoing everything I've already done. All my hate. Rattling around back there. I feel bad when I eat because I feel like I shouldn't, I feel bad when I see sunlight because it's revealing, I feel bad when I wear anything other than pajamas, I feel bad when I speak, I feel bad when I think, I feel bad.
Pretty much gotta tell myself: you're gonna be fine. This'll pass. Just give it a second.
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