Right now I resent all the people out there who have support–friends, family, partners, therapists, whatever. I know it makes me a terrible person; resenting what someone else has isn’t going to bring it into my life. But they have people who love and care about them, who talk to them and touch them, who would notice if they were sick or sad or gone. And I don’t, and it’s not fair.
What’s so bad about me that I don’t deserve those people? And yes, I know that’s a logical fallacy; I know it’s not actually about deserving or not deserving. But that just means the universe is cold and empty and doesn’t care that I can’t get my needs met. So either way it’s ugly: either I’m too bad to deserve care or the universe doesn’t care if I exist.
I want somebody to hug me and hold me and talk to me and take care of me. The world is too big and scary for me to deal with, but nobody notices I don’t leave my apartment or my room or my bed. No one cares that the world is too much for me.
Since there’s no one to love me, I might as well die. And that makes me a bad person too.
But I haven’t succeeded in killing myself yet. Probably because I don’t really want to die–I want someone to notice and care that I hurt so much I want to die. Because I want someone to take care of me…but eventually, I probably will kill myself because no one is going to love me.
In the meantime I’ve been purging again because words aren’t enough for how fucked up I am.