I just hate myself so so much.
I just went to see my therapist, or shrink, or quack, or guidance counselor, or 'paid friend' as he liked to refer to it, and I don't think I could walk away feeling shittier.
First on the drive there, I fucking flip out at myself for pulling through a stop sign too fast and cutting a dude off, and I fucking freeze up and nearly stop in the intersection. I get angry and hit myself hard on my forehead a couple times, I think it left it slightly swollen for a little bit, but I'm too much of a bitch to actually hit myself hard enough to leave a real mark.
Getting there and speaking with him, it's just so hard trying to tell him stuff, my thoughts are just all over the place. In one breath I'm trying to tell him how I'm scared of keeping memories of things and places, and in another just trying desperately to convey in my fucking personal language of UMMMs and AHHHs how I feel so completely out of place in society, how I'm just not a normal person and I don't belong anywhere.
Just going to the place is such a profound kill to my mood, I just can't muster any enthusiasm in speaking about anything. I'm just speaking in this samish depressed tone for the entire hour. At the end of it all, I'm pretty sure I've only convinced the man that I'm another one of the dime a dozen depressed retards that litter society like the milkable human trash they are.
And I just can't make eye contact with the man, when I'm speaking I can't help but stare intently on the wall 60 degrees to his right. It didn't come up in the discussion, but I can't help but interpret this as another subtle personal failing.
If I needed a meeting to validate any suicidal ideation I might have, it was this. Noone needs to worry though, I'm still too much of a bitch to even consider it.