I think I’m poison
Looking over my life, I don’t feel like I am good for the people I’ve loved. I feel like my family is wasted on me. I feel like I destroyed each of my friendships, and I feel like it’s my fault for not preventing my closest friend murdering his girlfriend. I can look at each of these and say that it’s not true, that I have been a positive influence in my family, my past friendships ended for a good reason, and I had no control over what he did. I can say that, but it doesn’t stop the pain. It doesn’t prevent the self-hate. I still blame myself for all of it. I don’t think I can relate to people, and that has always been the case. I think that for every painful moment in my life, I have been the cause at some level. I am the problem; the poison. I hate it. I don’t want to be rejected, or hated, or hurt anymore. I don’t want to be a person. I just wish I could exist in a vacuum, with no worries of how to talk to people without being turned on, or how to act so I don’t make people uncomfortable, or any more of this guilt echoing in my heart. I don’t want to think anymore. I want to stop causing problems, but I feel like my existence causes issues by itself.