I hate being suicidal.
I hate being insecure.
I hate being fucking depressed.
I hate being negative about everything.
I hate being unable to tell anyone anything.
I hate having to act the same damn part 24/7.
I hate circling 1’s for all the mental illness symptoms on all my physical examinations when the honest answer is probably a 10.
I hate never trusting anyone or anything enough to talk about anything even remotely close to my heart to them, least of all myself.
I hate hating people, humans who have many good qualities but in whom I can only see the bad, but most of all myself.
I hate my many little social oversights resulting in such a damn big public relations debacle.
I hate being the kid who has the perfect life until you find out it all isn’t so perfect.
I hate being Madness Behind the Beauty.
I hate being stuck in this situation.
I hate being so hated.
I hate being me.