What is this thing that nestles silently inside me, and then, just when things are starting to look hopeful again, grabs me by the throat from deep inside and strangles every ounce of joy and pleasure, simple as those are, rare as those are, right out of me? Why is it I can't get depression under control? Why is it tied into every long-held suspicion I have that I am completely and utterly worthless, or worse, a burden on all who have he misfortune of knowing me?
And here's what I really don't get: Why am I such a disgusting coward that I can't end this bad joke of a life I never even wanted in the first place?
There is no container strong enough to hold the throbbing hatred I feel for myself right now. My God, how deliriously and fiercely I want nothing more or less than simply not to exist. NOW.
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