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I don't think I'm a good person
TW: mention of sh, suicidal thoughts, eating disorders
My personality is a mess. They say your personality defines you but I wish mine didn't define me so explicitly . My personality is complicated. Probably some people would find that beautiful, but I don't think that is my case.
I am kind to people, sometimes even when they're not kind to me. I am accepting of people who are different from me and do my best to support them. To listen. I adore animals and love them with all my heart. I love taking silly walks in nature when things don't go so smooth and easy. I love flowers, and leaves, and rocks. I would do about anything for the people that I care about. I don't hate school like most people my age probably do. I read and I write just for the fun of it. I sometimes draw and paint even though I'm not really good at it. I take photos of every single thing around me and appreciate thr smallest things. But all that is only a part of it. The good part. The small part. There's a different part as well. The part most people don't know about unless it turns against them. The part they don't want to see and I don't want them to know. Yes I am kind to people, but I can also be really mean to people. And most times when I'm kind to people they turn against me and I get used. Yes I am accepting of people but I hold grudges for more than I wish I did. Yes I love animals and nature but I still do bad things to it at times. I would do anything for people I care about, but I will also do anything to ruin their life if some things go wrong. I am not just good. I am not even mostly good. There are things within me that I wish I could get rid of. Things that very few people know about me and sometimes not even few. Things like my childhood. The story of my dad leaving us and moving away to get rid of my mom's issues with anger and self control. How even if I get why he left, because he couldn't take it anymore, I am still angry at him for leaving, because when he left, he left me and my brother to handle mom.And if he couldn't take it as a grown man, how were me and my brother supposed to handle it?
Things like my issues with anxiety and depression that I've been struggling with since I was 12. That I'm still struggling with every single day when I wake up in the morning. The anxiety, the constant thought that things will go wrong, that every single one of my friends hates me for no reason, the uncontrollable leg shaking in class just because my teacher asked me a question, that I knew the answer to, but still felt like I was wrong. The fidgeting with my rings in social circumstances because talking to people feels like too much and I was convinced that they wouldn't like me anyway. That little voice in the back of my head telling me that everything that can go wrong will go wrong and that I am not worth anyone's love. That same little voice that my depression uses against me, telling me that I am a bad person, telling me that I'm not good enough even when I got an A on my test, and which if I don't get a perfect score will just tell me that I'm a disappointment to everyone and I am not worth being here at all. That will tell me to end it constantly, when I'm waiting for the green on the street light telling me to just walk in the traffic "It's not like anyone would miss you anyway". The depression that would remind me every morning of everything that I'm not doing right, but also take away any motivation to make it right. The starving myself and harming myself to feel a sense of control over my life. The extreme mood swings and extreme emotional episodes when I'm either at my highest level and I'm overly happy overly excited for everything to the point I screw everything up or at my lowest, not being able to say if I'll make it through the night.
The fact that I want so desperately to be loved by someone, for someone to care enough to not leave when they found out the real me. But whenever anyone tries to get anywhere close to me I push them away, because I don't think I deserve it. I don't think I deserve friends and people to care about me. I lash out on them when they try to get to know me, and I end up hurting them.
It's what I've done every time. And no matter how much I tried to change that, I have no control over it. I don't think I am a good person, and that's just it. Yes I have good parts as well, but they're not enough to make me a good person.
© aerys
My personality is a mess. They say your personality defines you but I wish mine didn't define me so explicitly . My personality is complicated. Probably some people would find that beautiful, but I don't think that is my case.
I am kind to people, sometimes even when they're not kind to me. I am accepting of people who are different from me and do my best to support them. To listen. I adore animals and love them with all my heart. I love taking silly walks in nature when things don't go so smooth and easy. I love flowers, and leaves, and rocks. I would do about anything for the people that I care about. I don't hate school like most people my age probably do. I read and I write just for the fun of it. I sometimes draw and paint even though I'm not really good at it. I take photos of every single thing around me and appreciate thr smallest things. But all that is only a part of it. The good part. The small part. There's a different part as well. The part most people don't know about unless it turns against them. The part they don't want to see and I don't want them to know. Yes I am kind to people, but I can also be really mean to people. And most times when I'm kind to people they turn against me and I get used. Yes I am accepting of people but I hold grudges for more than I wish I did. Yes I love animals and nature but I still do bad things to it at times. I would do anything for people I care about, but I will also do anything to ruin their life if some things go wrong. I am not just good. I am not even mostly good. There are things within me that I wish I could get rid of. Things that very few people know about me and sometimes not even few. Things like my childhood. The story of my dad leaving us and moving away to get rid of my mom's issues with anger and self control. How even if I get why he left, because he couldn't take it anymore, I am still angry at him for leaving, because when he left, he left me and my brother to handle mom.And if he couldn't take it as a grown man, how were me and my brother supposed to handle it?
Things like my issues with anxiety and depression that I've been struggling with since I was 12. That I'm still struggling with every single day when I wake up in the morning. The anxiety, the constant thought that things will go wrong, that every single one of my friends hates me for no reason, the uncontrollable leg shaking in class just because my teacher asked me a question, that I knew the answer to, but still felt like I was wrong. The fidgeting with my rings in social circumstances because talking to people feels like too much and I was convinced that they wouldn't like me anyway. That little voice in the back of my head telling me that everything that can go wrong will go wrong and that I am not worth anyone's love. That same little voice that my depression uses against me, telling me that I am a bad person, telling me that I'm not good enough even when I got an A on my test, and which if I don't get a perfect score will just tell me that I'm a disappointment to everyone and I am not worth being here at all. That will tell me to end it constantly, when I'm waiting for the green on the street light telling me to just walk in the traffic "It's not like anyone would miss you anyway". The depression that would remind me every morning of everything that I'm not doing right, but also take away any motivation to make it right. The starving myself and harming myself to feel a sense of control over my life. The extreme mood swings and extreme emotional episodes when I'm either at my highest level and I'm overly happy overly excited for everything to the point I screw everything up or at my lowest, not being able to say if I'll make it through the night.
The fact that I want so desperately to be loved by someone, for someone to care enough to not leave when they found out the real me. But whenever anyone tries to get anywhere close to me I push them away, because I don't think I deserve it. I don't think I deserve friends and people to care about me. I lash out on them when they try to get to know me, and I end up hurting them.
It's what I've done every time. And no matter how much I tried to change that, I have no control over it. I don't think I am a good person, and that's just it. Yes I have good parts as well, but they're not enough to make me a good person.
© aerys
