I’m fine

​I’m fine I say when you ask me how I am. Even though every thought is screaming at me that I hate myself and want to go home. I’m fine I say to the people I’m close with because I know once I say I’m sad it’s endless “motivation”. Filled with “You can choose to be happy” or “ You need to drink water and eat good food”Like I haven’t tried that a million times. Knowing it’s not about food, water or a change in scenery. 

It’s more like… I hate my body. I hate how I look fat when I logically know I’m not. I hate my brain. How it distorts things and makes problems feel bigger than they actually are. How it twists the tone of someone’s voice and tells me “It’s your fault they are mad or upset” Or “They don’t actually care about you you know. They only have you here as a place filler till someone better comes along” It’s the constant battle of are my friends really my friends or are they taking pity of the weird girl? 

It’s being sad and crying for no reason at all. It’s going from 0-100 all in a matter of minutes. It’s being a people pleaser. So they don’t leave. It’s making sure they don’t leave me alone by bending over backwards giving 110%. Then expecting nothing in return. 

I don’t like myself so how could they like me? But I can’t just ask that because what if I annoy them with that question? Or make them mad?   So instead I say “I’m fine” 

But then I’m trapped in my own mind isolated by myself. Because I don’t want to hurt them or make them feel bad about me. I’m scared that I’ll come across like a victim. Or make myself look like “poor pitiful me”. So I stick to the silence. Be there for them and make it look like I got my shit together when I’m falling apart. 

I hate myself. Every part of myself.