fuck me #

in the pit of all this, there’s this gnawing ache.
self-hatred—it’s there, and it doesn’t fade away.
it lingers, a weight I can’t shake off,
holding all the broken pieces i’ve tried to ignore.
i feel stuck, like i’m caught in this loop i can’t break,
where everything i do slips through my hands,
no matter how hard i try.

studying should be easy, right?
but my mind won’t stay still.
thoughts scatter, blown around like leaves,
never settling, always drifting.
and working out? it’s just another thing i can’t seem to touch,
like it’s too far away from me.
instead, i just sit here,
doubt filling the spaces where confidence should be.
i learn these hard lessons i never asked for,
ones i don’t know how to let go.

everyone else seems to be moving through life without much effort.
people my age—they’re making it look so easy,
piling up achievements, going forward like they’re supposed to.
and then there’s me,
unable to look in the mirror without feeling like i’m broken,
like i’m missing something essential,
something everyone else just… has.

the reasons are unclear,
but i hate myself anyway.
this self-inflicted ache—it’s all i know.
sometimes the thought creeps in:
what if i just ended it?
not for attention, but to finally stop feeling,
to see if it would hurt less on the other side.

maybe you think i’m just looking for attention,
another dramatic plea, right?
but it’s not that. it’s this heaviness,
a constant crush of emotions that never let up.
i’m drowning in them,
and i’m so tired.
i just want a break,
a moment where i don’t feel this way.

i know i should be studying.
i should be doing better,
but it’s like my mind won’t let me.
every step, it pulls me back,
keeps me from getting anywhere.
i just want to feel connected to something, to someone.
i want to be understood.
but even wanting that feels ridiculous,
like i’m shouting into a space where no one’s listening.

will anyone ever read this,
or will it disappear like every other thought i’ve had?
i don’t know anymore.
but the pain—that’s the one thing i’m sure of.
it never leaves.

the people i love… do they hate me?
are they just tolerating me?
is that why i feel this unbearable tension when i’m around them?
like i’m cringing at myself,
wondering if they’re secretly doing the same.

i imagine them with better people,
people who have their lives together,
people who don’t feel broken like i do.
why would they choose me?
i’m a mess they can’t fix,
a burden they probably wish they could drop.

i want out.
i want peace, but i can’t even find that in the idea of death.
i’m not brave enough to end it.
i can’t even do that right.
so here i am, stuck in my own incapability,
watching my life pass by,
as if it’s happening to someone else.

maybe i’m being dramatic,
pushing people away before they can reject me.
telling myself i don’t deserve any of this,
and then getting angry when i don’t get it.
it’s a loop, and i’m caught right in the middle,
chasing things i can’t even name,
like they’re just out of reach.

every day feels the same.
hope? that’s a far-off thing,
something i barely remember how to feel.
but here i am,
caught between wanting to laugh or cry,
wondering what any of this really means.

i’m just trying to get by,
trying to figure it out,
trying to figure myself out.
but most days, i can’t.
most days, i’m just… here.
lost in myself,
waiting for something, anything, to change.