My state has reached a new, interesting level. Several hours in a semi-sleep state, I observed the mistakes I’ve made in life flashing before my eyes. Not intentionally. Just because that’s who I am – clumsy, crooked, with a psyche warped by childhood traumas… How much crooked and clumsy stuff I’ve done in my life – it’s terrifying to think about. And all this chaos of my awkwardness rushed to jump in front of me yesterday. I’ve endured so much – I’ve never felt such shame in my life.
So, I wonder, could it be true that I’m a very bad person? And everything good I try to do – doesn’t cover all the mistakes I’ve made? A broken mentality, no matter how much I try to love myself, open up, raise my self-esteem – it feels like some essential ingredient for adequate self-esteem inside me has rotted and fallen off a long time ago, and no new one will be brought in, and without it – well, nothing can be built.
So, every time this happens (which happens with frightening regularity), I realize that I can bang my head against the pier in Santa Monica, but I’ll never change, and this whole mess with the horrors of our little town, when I understand that there’s no hope and there won’t be, will keep happening to me all my life, and indeed, there’s no hope and there never was. Because it hasn’t been there all my previous life. Why would it suddenly appear now?
In short, this is the main subject of my suffering. But I love life. I love it very much. It just seems like it’s not mutual.