Low self-confidence in my skills
I'm not sure how old I used to be back then, but I just never used to pay much heed to my talents and skills.
It's because of that blissful ignorance I was once a good dancer, a great cook, fiercely energetic in sports, smarter in my studies, happier when I used to paint, eager when I used to write, and joyful when I used to think.
People would compliment me on these humble skills, praising my limits and knowing just how good I was and most often encouraging me that I could be a lot better than I thought I was.
Then I don't even know what happened, or when it happened for that matter, but all of a sudden I just started to become more conscious and aware of the things I did.
I felt so small in this world as I saw others around me a thousand times better than what I could ever dream to be. Rather than being encouraged I found myself feeling apathetic to the things I once sought pleasure in; I gave up and gave in to this stupid fact that I suck at whatever I do, and I can just never be good enough or even better at what I do.
Now when I sing I just hate hearing my voice on the recording, when I draw something I tear it up immediately because I hate what I did. I just don't bother dancing anymore because I feel pathetic for once thinking I was good, I feel like a moron for even believing in the fact that I wrote exceptionally well, everything I cook tastes disgusting - nobody eats what I bake anymore except myself.
My list of nothingness just goes on and on - it never ends. I'm so miserable in this world at anything I try to do because I feel like if I can't be great at something I love, then life's not worth living in anymore.
I feel so horrible and miserable, I've just given up hope in anything and everything. I was an idiot for thinking I could once upon a time be the girl that stood out in the world - sure; I'd have stood out as the retardicon of the century instead. Thank God I stopped myself in time before doing anything that I'd end up regretting for sure.
I feel like killing myself because I'm an empty bag - just a useless space in this non-existence. Kill me now, please?