Is it possible to loathe yourself in such a horrific way - that all you want to do is rip your heart from your chest and step on it, so you no longer have to breathe through the pain?
I believe it is.
That's all I feel lately. I have no wit, no charm, no life. I sit here, day after day, a lump on the couch - dreaming of better things, longing for a better life and yet here I sit.
I feel like I'm in glue, I can't move, and I'm sick of wanting to. I'd like to be numb now, please God, so I can sit here without hating myself so much.
I know I'm so much more. So much more. There's more in here than a couch, and the chocolate, and the vicious cycle of eating to fill the void and hating the need to fill it.
I used to see and want and be so much. But I seem to have lost my muchness.
Where did it go?
And when can I stop hating myself? And how do I get off of the FUCKING COUCH?????