Honest Diary 02/07/26
The house is quiet, but my head is screaming. It’s always these late nights. They lay me out on the operating table and force me to look at every single flaw until it hurts to even possess a brain. I woke up again with that familiar, heavy sickness in my chest; the immediate realization that I have to spend another day inside my own skin. I actually imagined walking up to my own corpse tonight. Just looking down at myself and thinking, “You absolute waste. You're so weak.” How twisted is that? I feel like I hate myself so deeply that my own mind generates images of my destruction just to make myself feel at home. I’m trapped in this twisted paradox where I’m surrounded by success, yet I feel entirely bankrupt. Not that I'm successful materially but in life a lot of people would envy what I have but I take it for granted I guess. I buy into the lies the world sells me, knowing they're toxic, because at least the poison is familiar. I don't see the people who love me the...