I did just that today. I don't know if that says anything about me or not.

One bad thing about me is that when things don't go my way, I just automatically villainize the people involved and just simply blame them. It's way easier to redirect everything outwards so I don't have to face the sad truth that I am responsible for it. Deep down I'm probably jealous some people love themselves so much, and are so confident that they don't even have a hesitation to doubt themselves. I adore them and look up to them, but I'm also jealous. And I hate myself for it. So much.

So much.

I'm toxic. And I'm so afraid that it would be contagious; I'm pretty much fine living with it as I'm more or less used to it already, but I would never want my toxicity to fester out of me and into the people around me; I don't want to taint them.

I'm a conflicted person; I'm full of paradoxes. I want attention and some sense of caring from the people around me, but I hate being needy. I want someone to be with me and keep my companied, but I also really want to be alone. I want to stop hating myself, yet I still hate myself so much. I want to be able to see senses in things by myself, but I still need to be guided just to see the obvious every time. I want someone to listen to me, but I'm too tired to speak. That's probably why I resort to journaling. It soothes me even just for a while.

Journaling also helps me organizing my feelings and thoughts. I usually am not able to point out why exactly am I miserable; why do I feel a certain way about a certain thing, why do I not feel a certain way about a certain thing. Or worse, why do I not feel anything at all.

I would prefer a vivid, strong feeling than an empty feeling. When it's empty it's just empty and I can't do anything about it. I don't know how to make it stop. I don't even know what it is that I want to stop because there isn't anything in the first place.

It's a tremendous pressure to come to terms that in a way, everything that has ever gone wrong in my life is partly my fault too, and I am responsible for it. It's a tremendous pressure to keep in mind that maybe it's because I keep complaining and do nothing to make my life better so all I can do is to sulk about it. I don't know if I'm capable to carry that weight on my shoulders right now. I want to think that one day I'll be able to, but I really can't say for sure.

I really want to cry, but somehow I just can't.

See, isn't it depressing how I can't even cry myself to sleep.