Do I really know myself as much as I claim to? Why don’t I notice I’m subconsciously hurting myself until I look get called back on it? Why is it that I feel things extremely different than others, even if they feel pain, I feel it extremely different level. Why do I notice and enjoy things like lashes, habits, a skin detail? Am I a paradox? Why do I want to be in pain? Why do I want to get pitied or noticed? Why do I harm myself in relationships with people who claim to love me but only hurt me? Why do I always act as people would think, such as pretended to be hurt by soemthing, or annoyed, or things of such?
Maybe I’m just slowly dissolving into my emptiness. I am bearing thia is all alone, I cannot tell my family. My family apeace people with such ignorance that it’s no wonder I am so disgusting. It’s no wonder that I need someone to feelfeel sexual attraction to me. No wonder that I live in the lies I make.