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I've kind of felt rage towards myself. Not only for me, but for things I've been told. I was told I used to be better. A better person. Kind to others. And I know the person that told it to me told it with rage. Because that person was angry with me. That they didn't told me that from a place of understanding and empathy. But I can't help to notice that perhaps it has a bit of truth. That it's obvious that my sadness and grief don't allow me to be better. And I'm wondering, perhaps a little egoistically, how awful it must be to be around me.
My envy seems to be growing everyday. I envy everything I don't have, that I never had. It's not an envy that bleeds into my actions, most of the time I can control it. Sometimes it does and I can't help feeling like a wolve in sheep's clothes when it does. How awful it must be to be around someone who secretly hates you, even though I despise myself for it as much as anyone else would despise me. My thoughts and my feelings seem to go a war against each other. I tell myself 'It's not their fault, I'm happy they had good lives, that they have good families' and the thing is, I do not wish them otherwise. I don't wish they stay in the same hole than me. Not most of the time, at least. The envy sourges with the fact that I wish so desperately that I had that. It bleeds me, it makes me feel so raw. So angry, so furious. Like something I want to snatch away from their hands, not with the purpose of hurting them but to fill a void with love that doesn't belong to me. A family that isn't mine. A happiness that has never meant to be mine.
And I make, most of the time, a good effort in ignoring it. In avoiding those thoughts. But more and more frequently they bleed. And I'm hurting people I don't want to hurt. I don't want to hurt anyone. But I only realize what shit I do after I do it. Little passive-agressive phrases that, even if they didn't notice the harm, I did. I do fucking notice what I fucking did. And it makes me ten times furious. And that makes me lose control again.
It's an awful cycle of rage and sadness that derives from pain. And I know none of those actions, envying people, abandoning and isolating myself will take that pain away. I know that pain will probably never going to go away. But that knowledge doesn't makes me lesss angry or sad.
I don't know if I could live with the knowledge that I am everything I hate. And that I'm aware of every damned step I take to the wrong direction. I don't know if I could stop myself from wanting to end everything after that.
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hey, you don need to beat yourself up for that, now you are aware, you can still become a better person, sending virtual hugs
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