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Nobody loves me, everybody hates me, I think I’ll go and eat worms…

March 3, 2009

I’m in a rather melancolic mood, that’s all. I’ve been stupid in some things I’ve said, and I can’t accept being told things that I already know. I already knew that, too, but tell me and it’ll make me cry. The situation is fully resolved, I know that but I keep on harking back to it, harking back to how I was the one that screwed up, how I did this, how I did that. I get myself into situations that I can’t get myself out of, the worst being when I forget mid sentence what I’m talking about. I guess it’s a case of self pity and why reflection is bad, it’s something I didn’t want to share. I don’t normally share my moods, I don’t normally speak to people when I’m feeling like that. But I did, and I know the situation with this person is fully resolved but I’m still angry at myself. Angry for not stopping myself, angry for being naive.

Recently, I’ve not been particularly honest with nearly everyone about how things are. I think this post, mute, probably expresses how I’ve been keeping it locked up; it’s true, no-one knows about what’s going on inside me. I’ve not told my counsellor, doctor or therapist much; they don’t ask, I don’t tell. I should be taking the initiative to lead this, to actually tell them, but it feels too much. Because I’m functioning (just about), I don’t want to bother them. The matter that, well actually, for me this is a pretty bad state of affairs doesn’t stop me from staying schtum, instead I think of others and how I’m not really that bad. Whilst I’m still washing daily and eating one meal a day at least, nothing will be said that reveals the truth.

Birmingham is pretty lonely, I’m missing Manchester a lot. At the moment, I’m struggling to buy food and then eat it, week old fruit sits on my desk lonely and unloved. The fridge has meals I’ve made in it, that are slowly decomposing because I keep ‘forgetting’ to eat. Part of the truth is I don’t feel hungry, the other part is that when I realise, I wait as long as I can before I actually eat. I try to pass out before I eat, it makes things somehow feel more worthwile, more deserved. I may be on top of how tidy my room is and laundry, but there’s trails of work and commitments to make: yeah, sure I’ll come and then the day comes and the only thing I want to do is hide under my duvet. Play pretend. Playing pretend with everyone, however, is getting old. I’m becoming more and more at home to the idea of being a recluse, yep that sounds the best plan. Cat woman. Just that might require me to move out of halls, to the countryside and take a shipment of books. Maybe I could just disappear instead?

Nobody loves me, everybody hates me, I think I’ll go and eat worms… (my mum used to sing that to me when I was little (okay, not so little, like 13 years old) and kept crying incessantly because I believed that everyone hated me. I’m considering being point blank honest later when I go for dinner with my dad. It’ll hurt him like hell, which could be the only problem…)

2 Comments leave one →
  1. March 3, 2009 3:45 pm

    My Dad used to sing it to me too.

    Anyway tell somebody – somebody you trust, but you need to speak up.

    You do deserve help and attention, and your body needs food – you know as well as I do the link between diet and mood.

    If you can tell your Dad, that’s great, I’m sure it would hurt him much less than if he were to think that you were suffering silently and alone.

    And just remember “everyone can’t hate you, they haven’t all met you yet!” – Ah the great comedians. (No not a comment that ever helped me either – but I figured it might get a laugh, chuckle, almost grin?

    Take care,

  2. March 3, 2009 8:43 pm

    Start of a smile, that’s all differently 🙂

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