I hate myself

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I’m sure this will sound dramatic, I don’t care. I’m quite honestly beyond caring. First, I’d like to get something straight, while I hate myself, I am NOT suicidal. Just so we’re all emotionally and mentally clear.

I hate myself. All day, every day. 

I don’t want to. I try not to. I try to become someone my Boys will love. I try so hard to be better, to do better. I continually fail. I simply can’t.

I hate myself for everything I fail at and can’t seem to get right. No matter how many times I try. Even the things I think I may have accomplished, I may have pulled it off; I missed, screwed up and failed.

I hate myself for those mornings I am so sure that I’ve pulled it off only to find that I’ve failed. I’m up. I’m moving. I’ve got things handled. I’ve got everyone where they need to go. I’ve done well until I haven’t. I hate myself for never seeming to just quite make it.

I hate myself for needing medication, for being chronically ill, for being mentally ill. I hate myself for these the most. These cause a level of self-loathing 24-hours a day I didn’t know I was capable of. If I could just drop these three things from my existence and work a dead end job somewhere to support my family rather than be on disability, I would. In a cold, hot minute, I would quit those three things cold turkey, side effects be damned, hands down.

I would quit and maybe hate myself a little less.