I Hate Myself… By “Craig”
I hate myself. I mean truly, genuinely hate myself. If I died in my sleep that wouldn’t be a problem, sadly I’m too much of a coward to kill myself. People say those who commit suicides are cowards. I don’t see that. In order to take your own life requires massive brass balls I just don’t have. Suicide isn’t an easy way out, it’s a dead end. Especially for an atheist like me. I don’t think there will be an afterlife. For me it would just be oblivion, and I guess to some degree that’s why I can’t do it. As much as I hate and despise myself – despite what people say I think I’m fat and ugly – I just can’t bring myself to enter oblivion. But I wouldn’t care if it happened in my sleep – I wouldn’t know after all.
But then there are those I leave behind. My mum and dad care about me, granted that’s only because animal instincts in the higher apes creates this bond between parent and offspring. If it wasn’t for that issue they wouldn’t care. I think one or two others may miss me temporarily, but not for long. My mother tried to kill herself, recently, because she wanted to be with my grandmother. Her belief in an afterlife made her consider suicide and that there would be somewhere better to go to. I wish that were true because if it was, I might be more inclined to take that blade and instead of just superficial self harming, drive it deep into my wrist. Or my throat.
See these are the thoughts I have. I hate myself. And medication isn’t helping anymore, I just want to curl up away from everything with a never ending bottle of whisky. Away from everyone and everything. I want to run away and hide from everyone and everything. If I’m just by myself I can’t hurt anyone. People would ultimately be better off without me around.
But I can’t bring myself to do any of that. I can’t run away and I can’t kill myself so I have to live with myself. And I’m struggling to do that too. My days are filled with fear and hatred of myself. I can’t bring myself to do anything at all apart from sit in front of my laptop and wander around the internet. This is how I feel. I feel empty, alone and full of self hate.
And I feel I deserve punishment. That’s why I hurt myself, because I deserve it. Because I should have that pain, those scars. Everyday that goes by is like a punishment in itself. Each day feeling like this seems a punishment. And I hate it. But not as much as I hate myself. I’m not even sure what the purpose of this is, why I’m submitting this to this blog. I guess I just needed to put this out there, to let the world know how much pain I’m in. And how there is nothing I can do to stop it.