Diary Entry Exploring a Girl’s Struggle with Self-Worth Essay

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This forenoon. merely like any other forenoon. I dreaded waking up once more. I had to fall in world. but I didn’t experience presentable to the universe. I ne’er do. A few months ago. person told me I was reasonably. I asked him to halt blandishing me. I didn’t believe him anyhow. I wish I could. I wish I could merely be myself. I wish I could loosen up and experience normal. I wish I could merely be unafraid. I wish I could experience good plenty. But I don’t. Not by a long shooting. I can non believe I’m reasonably. My hair is downy. I’ve got musca volitanss on my manner excessively large olfactory organ. my tegument is dry… Those things are non the factors that define person pretty.

Those factors make me ugly. I have ever had jobs with people. From an early age. I learned that it’s non OK to be myself. My organic structure. my face. my apparels. my words. my motions. nil was good plenty. It started off with my parents. continued with my schoolmates in primary school and has non stopped until now. high school. I was. am and will ever be the ugly 1. The stupid 1. The incorrect one. I am being bullied twenty-four hours and dark. online and in individual. verbally and mentally. There’s no 1 on my side. so it’s me against the universe. They make up rumours. and I’m the one that’s in cryings.

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They ne’er think of anyone else except themselves. At first. I tried to contend back. but I shortly found out that merely makes it worse. Any word I say. gives them something new to gull me. So. I decided to feign I’m strong. And happy. My classs are at an all clip low. but my ethical motives are even lower. The lone thing I do. is seeking to do it through another twenty-four hours. I remember any abuse that came out of their oral cavities. although I tried to wipe out them from my encephalon. Somehow. everyone of their distorted words manages to remain burned into my head. Every snort. every soiled expression. every awful word. holds a particular topographic point in my head.

But that topographic point is non a happy topographic point. It’s dark in at that place. unhappy and highly suffering. It is kept under lock and cardinal. You can ne’er hold your guard up all the clip. You can ne’er feign you’re ever strong. You can ne’er ever feign your life isn’t crumpling around you. You can ne’er forge true felicity. It’s like walking on broken glass. By now. I am so broken down. I’m losing it. I merely want to vanish. I lost my will to populate. To contend another twenty-four hours in that annihilating universe. is the last thing I want. I hate myself and experience improbably stupid all the clip. a feeling that ne’er leaves me entirely.

I ever wake up in the same suffering life. Then back to school. When I walk down the hallway. it is ever a conflict with my tormenters. Peoples I one time deemed friends and people I hardly know yell average things to me. in a manner everyone can hear. Everyone makes up their audience. Perfect for them. Atrocious for me. Geting back place isn’t any better. It’s even worse. My parents. my brother. my sisters. They are meant to love me. but all they do is doing me experience even more insecure. Whatever I do. it’s ne’er good plenty. I try so difficult to fulfill them. but I ne’er win. It’s have oning me out.

No one of all time knows how miserably I truly experience. I hate looking in the mirror. I hate what I see. I hate the sound of my ain voice. I ne’er earlier experienced a group of people seeking so hard. to be so average. To a miss. A miss like me. A miss like me should be loved. Most misss are. But someway. that merely isn’t for me. I’m non cut out for this thing called life. At first. I deemed it bad fortune. Now I know better. It is my ain mistake. I am the ugly 1. The stupid 1. The incorrect one. So. today. I took a pocket knife and I did it. I deserved it. In a manner. it was alleviating excessively.

For a small 10 seconds. I merely stared at the blood running down my arm. on my manus. to my fingers and dripping off their tips. Intriguing. For that small 10 seconds. I didn’t experience anything. I merely loved to see the blood running down and down. to finally go forth my manus via my finger tips. It was like my wretchedness ran down with the blood. What a letdown after my 10 seconds. I’d have loved to remain like that forever. But I needed to acquire back to existent life. merely like waking up every forenoon. Somehow. there must be a manner to be in my ain 10 seconds everlastingly. They wouldn’t care anyhow.

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