I'm usually quite content feeling like no one cares about me, because I'll always have myself and find people who do but now I'm not so sure anymore and my care for myself is never solid. In fact it's at its lowest now and I don't believe there's any helping me anymore. I've always had a feeling of it's never going to get better but now it's more, I've tried and tried and all I've done is made everything worse for everyone else around me.

Everyone has their own way of wanting to be loved and cared about...well that's what I've read and try to remind myself in an attempt to stop some sort of breakdown when I decide the slightest mishap is the end of any feelings of love or care for me. I've always held onto what I've ever been able to get and still things have ended up...awful. I am grateful for everyone but I don't know anymore...I don't think I or them are real and when I am, I am undeserving of both the good and the bad. The bad seems to be all my life is destined for though. Not because of destiny. Just because it's how I work and I can't seem to fix it and people who can't or don't want to fix themselves either feed off me like some vampiric life source because I just give all of it willingly in some desperate attempt to not feel useless or unwanted. But I'm still useless, even if I try. I'm still unwanted because I'm still...this. I'm tired. I don't want to try and wait for things to not be as shitty or to drag myself out only to fall right back in again. I think I should try and finish what I started. And this time not be stopped. Even if I want to be. No one else wants to or can understand. I don't blame them. I really don't. 

I don't know what to do. I want to scream for help. But I feel like I already have been doing that and haven't been heard. I've snapped my mouth shut incase of being heard sometimes too. I've tried to tell myself this isn't really me. But I know who I always have been since I was old enough to even think about anything. I was always this. Always hard done by, whiny, ugly, shit at having friends, my brothers didn't want to be around me, my mum had to deal with me and my dad just got so confused and angry with me he'd hit me. And I didn't change. Not one bit. I don't deserve to be in this world. The most true thing that has ever been said to me. I wish I didn't feel like this. But I always end up right here. I'm not good enough for anyone or anything or maybe I'm just that twisted and horrible that it's truly the other way round to my fucked up mind that really just wants to be the victim all the time so I can justify this disgusting pathetic attempt of a "good person". If there was a hell, I was probably sent to bring it to earth in the most hard hitting ways possible. If anything, this feeling is proof because then when I end up dead, people who think I'm anything other than what I really am are going to be hurt and shocked. I should have stayed in my corner. Or more, I should never have thought I deserved to be anywhere else but in it, rotting. 