06/28/2012

 God I hate myself.

I have existed for the last twenty years under the belief that I have no worth as a person. 

The people that I love and call “family” have let me labor under this belief.  They have let this become a core facet of my personality, one of the most basic building blocks of my personhood.

I have no worth. 

My opinion is negligible, my comfort is unnecessary, my wants and needs are ignorable.  They have let me come to be this way, and they have called it “selflessness.”

It was convenient for them.  They have praised me for my maturity.  They have praised my lack of selfishness, while ruthlessly taking advantage of it.

I cannot ask for comfort.  In a time of need, I stand alone.  I cannot ask for material things; what I do not have, I must go without.  I cannot ask for love, or safety, or friendship.  I cannot ask for a sympathetic ear.

I can ask for nothing.

My ability to care for my own wellbeing was crushed.  They called it selflessness.  I hate that word so much.

I do not know how to care about myself.  I do not know how to put my own needs first.  I give to the group and take nothing from it. 

I am used, and I allow it because I don’t know how to not  be used. 

I hate myself for being so pathetic, and I resent all of the people who didn’t care enough to set me right, and I hate myself for that, too.