I wish I could write beautiful words, but I can’t. I can’t write amazing poems and interesting posts like everyone else. Somehow, in my head, I’ve even managed to turn blogging into some kind of competition where I feel like a failure and I feel like everyone else is better at it than I am. I hate everything that I write. It’s only meant to be my diary. I don’t know why it matters whether I’m good at it or not, but it does. For some reason I expect myself to be brilliant at everything. But I’m terrible at everything I do, and that makes me so sad.
I suppose it doesn’t really matter though, because I feel worthless regardless of whether I succeed at things or not. Being successful doesn’t make me hate myself any less.
I wish I didn’t hate myself so much.
I’m not feeling very well 😞