o/~ they said there'd be snow at christmas o/~

[katster]

They said there'll be snow at Christmas
They said there'll be peace on earth
But instead it just kept on raining
A veil of tears for the virgin birth

It's November. Christmas and the end of the year is just around the corner. In two short weeks, I'll be 23. Not like it makes much difference, but anniversaries make me reflect. And I guess there's no bigger anniversary than the anniversary of the day I was born. I guess I'm starting early this year.

I hate the fact I have relationships I've broken so bad it'll be an impossible effort to mend. Whether it's because of something I did, or something they did, or just a combination of both. This does wonders for my sanity. I don't know why I'm attracted, like a moth to a bugzapper, to attempting to fix some of those, and one of these days, I'm gonna learn that the only thing that comes from flying too close is that I get holes in my wings.

And one of the things I wonder is if I'm really...well, it's hard to put this in words. But sometimes I wonder if it's a good thing to feel as deeply as I've somehow been cursed with. There's something going through my head right now, about wondering if this depression problem I have is a ploy to garner sympathy, and even though this was told to me with the usual lack of empathy I've grown to expect, it's got me wondering. Is this a fucking act? Am I miserable simply because I want to be noticed, to be cared for?

Maybe I should just fucking shut up about how I feel about things. Be a nobody. I'm pretty damned close as it is. Oh trust me, your comments and thoughts are nothing compared to what I think about myself. Take every bad thought you've thought about me, and multiply it by a thousand, and you'll get pretty much the picture I can get of myself, especially when I'm depressed.

I am Kat, and I hate myself.

They sold me a dream of Christmas
They sold me a Silent Night
They told me a fairy story
'Til I believed in the Israelite

The thing I'd most like for my twenty-third year of life is more self-confidence. I'd like to quit being so hard on myself for failure. That's the one thing this screwed up illness of mine has done, is tore out any self-confidence I have for anything. Because after a few screwups where you're so utterly confident walking into a test, and you walk out nearly flunking, you start to wonder.

And this is what I've grown to believe. I'm smart? That's irrevalent to the point. Being smart didn't help me when I walked in overconfident, and it doesn't help me now. I want somehow to be sold on the idea that I have some worth, I want somebody to find some way to convince me that no confidence is just as bad as overconfidence. And to pound it into the part of my brain that relys on feeling to get the point across.

Once bitten, twice shy. That's what they call somebody like me, the person afraid to go back in the water 'cause a shark once nibbled on her toes. Sometimes I'm too careful for my own good, not springing on the chance, because the chance involves me taking a risk that I'm not necesarily sure I'm ready for yet.

I want to believe in myself again. Is that too much to ask?

I wish you a hopeful Christmas
I wish you a brave New Year
All anguish pain and sadness
Leave your heart and let your road be clear

This is what I want. Can anybody come through with it?

Comments

The weakest link...

[galith.livejournal.com]

Is this a fucking act?

Assuming that you are telling the truth (or near to the truth) in the posts I've read of yours then no, it is not. You are genuinely depressed and misserable, at least as far as I can tell. People who fake this kind of stuff don't worry about the moral problems of doing it, and certainly don't talk about them.

Am I miserable simply because I want to be noticed, to be cared for

No. However that is why you are telling the world about it, and that is NOT a bad thing. Pain should not be bottled up tightly inside, pain needs to be expressed or it will take much longer to go away. People can help, people WANT to help, many people like helping. Those who think less of you for sharing your pain here are not those who I would have as friends, especially here, live journal was made for this kind of group support.

I am Kat, and I hate myself.

We all think we are the weakest link, that life would be SO much better if we could just do x, y and/or z. We all downplay our strenghts and emphasize our weaknesses to ourselves, especially in our darker moments. We all hate ourselves at some time or another, and yet few (if any) of us would trade our lives for the lives of any others, because then we would cease to be who we are.

The thing I'd most like for my twenty-third year of life is more self-confidence.

What are you good at? Don't say nothing, this is a serious question, what things in life are you good at, especially which of those things do you enjoy? You probably overlook these things as completely mundane, not even worth noticing, but I would bet that there is someone out there who sees you and envies you for those qualities, who wants to be more like you, who wants to be able to do something you consider to be a push over. If you can't think of anything ask some of your IRL friends what they admire about you, I think you'll find you are a lot stronger than you think.

I'd offer specific praise but I don't know terribly much about you. All I can do is offer a shoulder to cry on if you ever feel the need. I wish you the best of luck. *hugs*

[zorbathut.livejournal.com]

I wish I could help.

I don't know you well enough, really, but . . . you sound too much like me.

If I could give you self-confidence, I would, but I'd have to find some first, and I'm having enough trouble with that on my own . . .

Feeling deeply is a blessing and a curse, at the same time. I hope you do better soon.

[fearghaill.livejournal.com]

Take every bad thought you've thought about me, and multiply it by a thousand, and you'll get pretty much the picture I can get of myself

A thousand nothings is still nothing. In all honesty, I have never had a bad thought about you. I don't think you've ever given me a reason to.