Sometimes I hate myself. Like, not teenage angst hate myself, but legitimately hate myself. I wish bad things upon myself, set myself up for failure, just to see something that I wish for fulfilled, for a change. It's a sad existence, but that's how I function. I'm my own personal punching bag.
I consider myself aromantic for the most part, and unfortunately, I only seem to find that out through trial and error, hurting other people in the process. I feel as though I should remain alone, so I don't do this to anyone else. It would be a fitting punishment, and a more logical decision, to die alone and miserable, rather than take other people down with me.
I try to suppress parts of myself to conform to what other people want. Try, and fail, miserably. It ends up becoming different selves in different places, with each group asking me why I hide the other aspects of myself from them. In short, I honestly don't know why. Some people don't like certain parts of me, but I can't just get rid of them, so I show them to other groups instead. I've never met someone who has accepted all of them, and I'm starting to accept the fact that I never will.
One failed relationship is just a mistake, but after three, it starts to get to you. It has to be me that is the problem, I've figured that out. I'm too cryptic, I don't know what I want out of life, and on my way toward figuring that out, I drag those people along for the ride, and that isn't fair by any stretch of the imagination. Yet somehow, I fall into the same rut. I get attached too quickly, latch on, and when I start falling off, I start trying to convince myself that this is what I truly want, because I'm afraid of the pain of the fall, when I should just let go and be left on the ground to rot.
I guess this can be seen as self-pity, and I apologize in advance for wasting your time with my rambling. The house I live in is a giant sepulcher, and each of the rooms within it its own different emotional tomb, my room included. There would be unwanted repercussions if I told anyone in my physical life any of this nonsense, especially if I told them that the core of my problem is likely me trying to deny my true sexuality. All I have been doing, for as long as I can remember, is denying myself who I am. There are brief moments, few and far between, where I find a small space to be myself, but they are quickly ripped away from me by the needs and standards of others. If I could build myself an island and live on it, I'd do it with a sand shovel and plastic bucket if I had to. I know I don't want to be alone for the rest of my life, but I feel that it's probably the only thing I can look forward to at this point.
To anyone who has made it through this in its entirety, thank you, and bless you. It's a shame that deaf ears are often the ones we find in person, but whether it's on Tumblr or not, it makes me feel better to be able to vent this stuff. I apologize for taking your time, and I hope you are all having a wonderful Thursday.
If you have gone through a similar situation, or have any advice for me, my Asks are always open.
blakekathryn
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