Where would I be without my precious self pity? I cling to it, as though it brings some sort of comfort. "Oh, my life is miserable"... there is a peace of mind in believing myself a victem of the world, of men, of God- Then, I will see people who suffer more than I do, and the self loathing wells up inside of me. Which, lol, of course leads to more self pity. Its a terrible cycle... sometimes i want to pull myself down into a depression, and I'll want to hide away from everyone. Somehow, I manage to function, no matter how minimal that is. I wish I could forgive what people have done to me... it is almost like I am afraid to let go of that hate. where would i be without it? what would be my excuse without it? If i handed away my secrets and my grudges, I think I'm afraid there wouldn't be a piece of me left. I'm afriad that it is all I am now.
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