I Hate Me

I hate me.

I hate who I am when I'm depressed. I hate needing so much from people that I'm probably draining them, and not even being able to feel grateful because I cannot feel love, because I cannot feel.

I hate walking around with a face that does not change, as people wonder why I stare at them when they speak to me or stare off into space whenever.

I hate not being able to give to the world because I'm so busy looking after myself.

I hate trying to force my self to care about everything.

I hate me.