Why am I such a failure? I’ll never be enough. Or am I too much? I don’t deserve happiness. I’m weak. Stupid. Why am I so awkward? How could I be so brainless to never ask questions? To never see what was right in front of me? No wonder my father hated me so much. On and on the insecurities went. They came one after another, plowing through my soul and cracking me open. Each thought brought a stream of salty tears down my cheeks. The level of self-hatred I held for myself was crushing. My heart broke for itself, knowing I’d always felt this way without ever realizing it. The spiraling thoughts
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