Inside I’m angry and I’m tired of feeling guilty.

I’m pissed my father never taught me how to love.

I’m pissed that I work for a temp agency when I could be ruling the f****** world.

I’m pissed that my mother is so immature that she, for years, used her children as slaves and a means to gain attention from her husband.

I’m pissed that my family doesn’t appreciate what I am and what I could be.

I’m pissed at all of the people that passed up the chance to love me.

I’m pissed at the people that say they love me, but don’t mean it or show it.

I’m pissed that after I will finally be healthy enough to have babies, there will, more than likely be no one to have them with.

I’m pissed that Jeff doesn’t love me. He almost refuses. (And his other girlfriend isn’t very cute at all and has already been married twice. Do you really want to be #3?)

I’m pissed that even though I know this I don’t leave, but, instead, still use him for expensive dinner dates.

I’m pissed that I feel the need to lie to live up to my own expectations.

I’m pissed that I have such low self-esteem.

I’m pissed that I still blame others for it.

I’m pissed that, when I wake up, I’m never excited about it.