My husband says that I am special, but I am not. I feel like a heaping steaming pile of runny shit on a grating, black-tar shingle on an icy morning with frost on it. I am in total despair and I feel like I can not talk to him about it because it is not fair to him, which means I can not talk to anyone about it and I am completely alone. Everything I feel can easily be labeled “selfish” but I feel it - so everything I feel is selfish and I am not allowed to feel anything. Fuck this. I’ve been hitting myself and it feels really good. I surprised myself when I smacked myself in the face the first time, but I’ve done it many times since then and it always feels good. It feels good to finally treat myself the way I want and deserve to be treated - like SHIT. Fuck my face, fuck my body, fuck my words, my lies, my truths, my faith, fuck all of everything that I am. I want to beat the ever loving shit out of myself. I want to hit myself until I swell and bruise and bleed because I deserve every blow.