I Hate Me

No matter what I do, I seem to always do the wrong thing, say the wrong thing, think the wrong thing. Me. Myself. I do this, all the time. I feel like I am barely keeping myself afloat. I feel like my relationship is failing and my connection to my family is dropping one-by-one. Because of me. I hate me. Now, today, yesterday, a year ago. I already hate me tomorrow because I know I will fuck something up, say the wrong thing, express the wrong thing. Feel the wrong thing. As always. This isn’t just a here and now problem, that has been a problem my whole life. I hate me. I wish I could change. I wish I could not be me. I wish I was better, had a better mind, heart, was a better person as a whole. I wish I didn’t feel the itch and ache to burn and bleed- my old form of breathing and release. I fucking hate me, and I fucking hate these feelings and I will say it over, and over and over again until someone, something, even myself finds a way to show me I shouldn’t and why I shouldn’t. But I know I am a fuck up, a mess. And I make a mess of everything because of who I am and all of the things I feel. I hate me.