…and I hate myself, too
I’m sitting at home. I got to the bowling alley (at 8:50, inevitably) with a message on my voicemail saying that people were going to EU’s before bowling, at which point I sent MG a text saying “I am going home” and, well, went home.
MG is now calling me (five times so far) and I, like the mature and reasonable adult that I am, am ignoring her calls.
I hate getting this angry over petty things.
I hate feeling stressed about an hour in one direction or the other.
I hate feeling obligated to do things I don’t want to do.
I hate my body, and the way my body makes me feel, and what it is.
I can look back over the last twenty-plus years and rarely have I asked, “Why me?” but right now I can’t find the energy to care about liking myself for who I am or getting behind the positive things going on in my life or all of the other self-actualizing things I should be doing.]
But I sure as hell can sit here and hate myself, and wish I wasn’t living at my mom’s anymore (less than three weeks left!) so that I didn’t have to deal with her on top of everything else.
So there.
-R
Themocracy