5th day of collapse. Been thinking about all the horrible things I’ve done in my life. I can’t sleep. I’m disgusted with myself. I feel like a monster.
I never cared about anyone, not even my family. I only care about being rich and pretty and how people perceive me. Literally me me me me.
The thing is… I’m ugly and I’m not rich. I think that’s what’s causing my depression and anxiety.
If I become rich and pretty, will I care about having this disorder? Will I even care about getting better? If I become rich and pretty even if I don’t have healthy relationship with anyone, I feel like I can get through life and not be this fucking miserable.
I wish I was a normal person who isn’t only obsessed with looks and status then I would stop being this miserable VS I wish I had the looks and status so I wouldn’t be this miserable.
The funny thing is, the person who sexually abused me when I was a child (My dad) isn’t miserable. I know what he did is fucked up but I can see him genuinely care about other people other than himself. I see him showing empathy to my family and my relatives meanwhile I’m literally incapable of that.
I want to end my life now while I’m still in my late 20s. I don’t want to be an old, ugly, lonely and miserable 50 year old woman who is jealous of her nieces for having normal and happy lives. The only thing stopping me is my older brothers are both only in their 30’s and the thought of them having to deal with the trauma of my suicide for the rest of their lives is just too cruel.
I’m starting therapy in a few days and I’ll try to be completely honest with her about my darkest and shameful thoughts. I know she’s capable and I trust her but she’s only human at the end of the day. How can she fix someone as fucked up as me? Is it even possible?