In the Graveyard that I've Filled

Does this feeling of self loathing ever truly go away? Or do you learn to live with all the disgusting, selfish, fucked up parts of yourself? If you do, does that make you worse, more degraded? More disgusting. More selfish. More fucked up. Is chronic self awareness with no action a flaw? Knowing all your bad parts and hating them but not changing them seems like a flaw.

What does it say about me that I'm too tired to care anymore? I can't get myself out of bed. Can't get myself in the shower. Can't look at myself in the mirror. I hate the person I see there. The sunken, dull eyes. Those eyes used to look so brightly back at me. Now they flit away never quite making direct eye contact. The once clear and glowy complexion, now flat and ruddy. The full lips that used to bend into a smile so easily, now are brittle and dry cracking as I frown. I feel bad for her because she is stuck with me. Stuck with me fucking everything up. I'm nothing and she is suffering for it.

That smart, spit fire of a girl. She had dreams and aspirations that got pushed back to nothing while I bit our tongue till it bled and then retched at the taste. Hid us in the darkest of corners and cried that I'm afraid of the dark. Talked us out of every dream we've ever had while calling us a failure. I fairly stomped and stepped and shoved her down. Letting the world batter and break us.

And for what? The fear of making a mistake? Ironic, then, that all I've done is make mistake after mistake. Wasted years of her life so I could hide from mine. And now I can't look her in the eye. Can't stare at us in the mirror without being repulsed and ashamed.

If I knew the words to apologize I would. If I could take it all back I would. But I can't undo the things I've done. Can't unhear or unsay the things I've said. Can't unlearn the things I've ingrained in us. The horrible lies I let us believe. I can't forget them and I can't move past them.

So... I suffocate her and strangle her and poison her and drown her with thousands of unshed tears. Unspoken truths. Numb pained. Shattered dreams. All because, deep down, I don't believe I am worth any of those things. Even the bad things in life.

I haven't lived a traumatic life. Haven't been horribly abused. Haven't been mistreated. It's just me ruining my life. And she's suffering for it. I'm slowly killing her off while I selfishly cling to this dismal existence I've dug for myself. Too much of a coward to live it. Too much of a coward to end it. Too much of a coward to fix it. Too much of a coward to leave it all behind.

So, to all the me's I've killed and buried, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm even sorrier that the apology isn't enough and that it's hollow. I'm sorry I let us down and let you die for nothing. For fear. For other people that didn't stay and didn't care. I'm sorry and I know it's not enough and never will be. I hate that but I am so tired and so lost. I don't know how to get out of this mess of mine. And I am more than a little scared to. So, I'll just sit here in the graveyard I've filled with every version of myself I've killed.