I get it, okay?
I get that I am a failure.
I get that you’re disappointed in me.
I get that you hate helping me.
I get it that you wish I was dead.
I wish I was dead.
I get it that it was my fault that I was fired.
I get it that it’s my fault that I’m still unemployed.
I get it that people are embarrassed by me.
I get it that there must be something fundamentally wrong with me.
I get it that I should never have been born.
I get it that I’m just a mistake.
I gett it that if I had just shut up and put up I would still have a job and you wouldn’t have to give me money.
I get it that I should forget standing up for myself and just let people walk all over me.
I get it that I should work on pleasing others and never worry about what I want.
I get that I am a bad girl going to hell.
I get it that I’m unlovable.
I get it that I’m stupid even with two college degrees.
I get it that my only purpose is to get married and have kids and obey my husband in everything even though I’m not married.
I get it that I’m ugly and fat.
I get it that I should hate me. And I do.
I get it okay. I’m keeping my mouth shut and letting you run my life so you’ll be happy and I’ll be miserable which is what you always wanted.
If I could just break my arms or slit my wrists, everything would be better.
I keep applying to jobs but I haven’t heard back from any. So still a failure. I know my parents hate helping me and are going to cut me off soon. My mother has always considered me a failure and a loser and hates helping me in any way and tells me constantly how much a disappointment I am and how I’ve failed her my entire life. She also reminds me how stupid I am and how my younger sisters are so much smarter and much better off financially and how much prettier they are and how many friends they have and how useless I’ve always been compared to them and how they were perfect children while I was always needing to be punished. She doesn’t need to use words now to tell me these things. She just has to call me and I already know the conversation.
I keen doing what everybody wants but nothing gets better. I do what I want and everything gets a hundred times worse. Some days I really want to die. The pain is so bad and nothing I do makes it better. What’s the point?