Ugh

I hate myself sometimes. Ok, most of the time. That's not to be pitied, but something that's fact and something I fight against.

And fighting is hard. I know I struggle a lot with day to day stuff but I still give this pretense of functioning across which is a protective barrier to hide behind.

When reality clashes with my fairytale life, when I am so bluntly exposed to the fact that I am ill and that even the simplest thing of going to a course that I love every week is a challenge, and one that I keep failing at I get embarrassed at myself, at my weakness. So then I get even more upset and make myself worse, because not only did I not go to the course but I didn't go because I couldn't face it.

And I think that even the fact that when I do go I scare myself at how my mind ends up on paper, drawn, written, in such a way that I am actually happy with it. When I struggle so much with self esteem it is so hard to take pride in my work and there is so much shame attached to it.

So here I am, making myself vunerable, because if I don't then I won't go back, and I love the course, and the people and I hate myself for missing it.