My broken bones

More than anything else in the world, I feel like sobbing and break into an ugly cry for two hours while rambling about why I'm so tired and scared and depressed. More than anything else in the world, I know that if I do that--if I do what I feel like doing--it would mean that I'm weak and stupid and not being grateful for what I have.

I know. I tell that to myself all the time.

I don't despise myself, but I am my worst enemy; my biggest weakness, and my harshest critic.

I'm not weak. I know I'm not. I'm probably not as strong as some people are, but by God believe me I've tried. I'm sorry if it wasn't good enough. I've tried to pull myself together and be tougher, put on a greater strength and smile, but it's never easy.

Nothing feels weirder than being in a position that people would kill for, only to feel like you don't deserve it and hate yourself for thinking so low of yourself.

A lot of things feel worse than that, but knowing that you cannot accept your own blessings will make you doubt whether you ever love yourself from the first place.