My problem…

23 05 2010

is that… well.. I’m me. I really do have low self esteem, it’s a bizarre because I know what I’m good at and at times I come over as arrogant (I prefer to call it self assured but who am I kidding?) but when it comes down to it I have very little, if any, faith in myself.

Maybe it’s the bipolar, maybe it’s just who I am, unfortunately the bipolar is who I am so it’s a bit of a moot point, but I just… I dunno, I just believe that all I can do is use the good points about myself at the times when I’m most able to use them (I’m very good at coming up with solutions in a crisis) and help those I care about. At least until I screw things up, an innevitability I accept, possibly because I accept it is why it happens…. isn’t going to change anything because it’s something that is irrovacably within my psyche.

Lets face it, I’m my own worst enemy because I dream of better things and then fail to achieve even a portion of them, which is quite upsetting. Can’t help it, it’s who I’ve always been. Fly high in my mind and can’t see why it’s not attainable in real life. Don’t get me wrong, I’m very attached to reality, I’m not delusional, if I wasn’t so against drugs I know I’d be using because I’d love to not be so aware of reality. Fuck.

I know I need CBT (cognitive behavioural herapy, not cock n ball torture you kninky feckers… or compulsory bike test… don’t think that’s kinky but you never know with bikers) to help but waiting is such a pain in the ass. For the time being I’ll just stick with going through what I do, randomly wondering if today is when I hopefully get to die, feeling jealous of those who do die, regardless of how. That’s gonna sound pretty fucked up to some but then that’s life, not everyone is going to share your world view. Don’t get me wrong, there’s people who deserve to die, who should die, but there’s far more who die who should be allowed to live longer. No life isn’t fair, I know, if it were then I could allow them to have some of my years because I have a terrible feeling that if things run the way nature intends I’ll end up living a long and miserable life, not the most pleasing prospect.

I know the things I’d miss if I weren’t here (assuming I could miss stuff, who knows whats beyond that veil) and it hurts to think of not being around. I just can’t help feeling that the world would be better off without me being in it.

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