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Ever since I was a very young child I started to feel insignificant. I started thinking, usually late at night, how big the world was, how big the universe was, my mind could not and still does not fully grasp it. The only result of such ponderings is a feeling that the floor will fall out beneath me. That I’ll die at any moment. People die all the time. Every second. Did they know before it happened? The feeling of impending death is so overwhelming at times that I find it hard to breathe. And yet, being so frightened of the thought, I find myself daydreaming about my death. When things become too much to bear, I know that I could die. And it’s a welcome relief. How can I just effortlessly float from one extreme to the next? I don’t know how I carry on day to day and not constantly hate myself. I don’t know how I can go out in public and have a good time. I am ugly, and overweight, and dumb as a rock. And yet, I hate when people judge me. I can’t stand the fact that I allow people to make me feel that way. But I’m okay with making myself feel that way? That I’m not allowed to feel human because I believe everything about me is unappealing? I just feel pathetic and frustrated that I am where I am in my life. That I made these decisions and I make little to no effort to change them. And I whine about it all, and I get upset and all it would take is one step here, one step there, one step ANYWHERE. But I don’t go anywhere. I just sit, and watch everybody twirl and dance with life on by. And I hate myself.

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