im too hard on myself, they say. over and over again. a shit cheery mantra made even worse by the fact that they believe it. they really do think im good, or worth it, them, their time. they do believe i deserve better, that i should forgive myself, that my mistakes dont define me. its nice to think its true, sometimes. but it just fucking isnt. 

and its so hard to ignore them because the thing is, they’re right. my shit mistakes dont define me; the way i act and react after i make them, thats what fucking counts. and there’s a part of me that wishes i didn’t care, because it would be so much easier to just be able to put it out of my mind. but thats just a tiny fucking sliver of me, maybe a part of my spleen that just wants to be free to fuck it all, fucking free spirit spleen. the rest of me, the shit that matters and would be missed after surgery, all that slippery shit inside of me says you did this to yourself. you made mistakes that messed up people’s lives. you imagined for a second that you were more important than the people you loved, that they would recover after what you did because they never really loved you enough in the first place. isn’t that right? didnt you think yourself more capable of love, of deep love, of fucking raging, tumultuous love than they? those slimy organ sacks are fucking right, they hit the nail right on the head. i did think i loved more, i thought nothing i could do to someone would ever be as bad as all the little things they could do to hurt me. i made my mistakes out of ignorance and egotism, and now that i am slowly becoming enlightened as to my own faults i will do my fucking best to make up for them. 

its not lack of self-confidence, and its not self-loathing. its a slow and steady crawl through my own shit sludge towards self-improvement. i like me, i know there are things about me that are good, and fucking great, and obviously likable. people like me, i have friends. there is no issue of whether i am good to have around. but ive spent too much of my fucking life thinking that no matter how bad of a decision i made, my likability would keep people around. i dont want that anymore. i dont want someone to keep me around because im a fucking laugh or because occasionally i spout some interesting bullshit. i want them to stick around because they love me as much as i know i love them, knowing that im doing my best to patch up the bald spots in my character. this is for me as much as it is for them.

what ive done IS my fault, and only mine. i refuse to cop out like a little bitch. i am NOT a little bitch.