I believe in loving yourself. But how do we love ourselves? What is love? We learn it as children. A parent's love is supposed to be unconditional, except, my father never loved me and my mother's love is never enough. I've been surrounding myself with people for years, trying to make up for the words I didn't hear. People have always loved me but all I hear is lies, because how can anyone love me when I can’t even love myself? I say that they only love me because I’m pretty or easy or vulnerable. Be honest, how much do you even like yourself?

I’ve made it okay to put myself down. I call myself the worst of names and I joke about it. And in that way, I’ve become a stereotype of the worst kind. I’ve become a bully, of myself and others, and the stereotypical girl with “daddy probs”. I call others the stereotypes when I’m the laugh. So I pretend I’m confident. I act like I’m proud. I dress like I’m different. I try to sound like I think I’m better. I say that I don’t care what people think of me. Well, I’m sick of lying. I’m way worse and everyone cares about how people view them.

I’ve destroyed myself trying to change and be better. I just want to be loved, but no one can love me when I can’t even love myself. I am covered in scars. I’ve seen my blood both trickle slowly and run like a flood down my arms, my legs, my sides. I cut, not because I thought I was ugly, but because I knew I was pretty. I have tried so hard to make myself as ugly on the outside as I feel on the inside. I have cut, I have starved, I have taken pills, I have broken myself so many different times in so many different ways. And the worst part is, I did it all out of hate. No one can hurt me worse than I can hurt myself. I hate myself. I am my own worst enemy. But I'm still going to try to love myself.
     

Isolation. Degradation. Depravation. Depredation. I have so many questions, so many beginnings and endings. When did the good things become more upsetting than the constant abuse? When did picking out an outfit with matching socks become more important than eating? When did trying to make things right become more important than sleeping at night? When did I lose sight of who I am and who I want to be? And why?
     

I go through the motions of love, but they feel so empty. I want to feel something, but I hate to feel pain. We have to love ourselves to feel loved, to feel as though we matter. Love is our savior or our destroyer. You love yourself, you win. You hate yourself, you lose. I can't afford to lose.