“You’re not worth it,” she said as she threw her a sharp look that both had seen too often, “I hate you.
Look at you, with your sadness and your issues and your face – that face, I mean, if only you could smile for a moment, just a moment. Think about all of those people in the world going through more than you are and they are smiling through it. Why can’t you do that?
Why can’t you just get over it? Why can’t you just move on?
So he hurt you and they abused you and she died? So what? Get over it. You don’t see the others who went through these things still struggling with their issues. And if they are they are much better at covering it up than you are, to me at least. Why can’t you do that?
Actually, let’s talk about this – if you can put a face on for the world why can’t you do it for me? Maybe because you know how much of a burden you are when you’re like this. Maybe because you know nobody wants to know this part of you. Maybe because you’re just not strong enough to show other people this.
You are so weak. If you were stronger you’d be over this by now.
And ugly, you’re so ugly. Do you know that? Inside and out. Nobody would want to know you if they could see you now, the real you, the messed up, not-functioning failure that is you.
You sometimes tell me that you’re doing the best you can. But what are you doing? You know that other people feel like this too and they are doing much more than you get better. Pull yourself together.
And what have you done today? I’ve watched you, moping about. You’re not even dressed. Look at you. You crawled out of your bed, your dark pit, little before sunset (and you weren’t even sleeping properly) and now you’re just sitting there, staring at a screen while the world moves on without you. Everyone will have forgotten you soon.
Well at least you ate today, but you know what – what you ate was just crap, crap that your body will not thank you for later. But it will serve you right. Look what you are doing to your body.
Get your shit together.
Really girl, don’t keep doing this to me. I don’t want to see it anymore. I don’t want to see you and your pain and your sadness and your ugly life. It’s too much. Just go. Get out of my face.”
“But I can’t” she replied to herself as she turned away from her mirror, “my face is yours.”