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  • "You have a hole that needs to be filled. You use those things to fill the emptiness within..."

    She's right. I acknowledged her with a slight pursing of my lips and a shaking of my head in the affirmative. "You're right. I'm not proud of it. I'm not proud that I want to be mean and make people feel as ugly as I do sometimes. I try to fight it."

    "That's why you're going to be ok," she said. "You don't just accept the things that make you feel sad or depressed. You confront them, you think about them, you try to make them better."

    She's right about that, too. I really do try to make myself a better person every single day. But it's not easy. Some days I just have so much frustration and jealousy welling up inside of me. I want to just love myself for who I am, for the things I can do; I don't want to hate myself for all those things I'll never be. I am afraid it's who I am though. Who I'll always be.

    I only tell her half-truths. I tell her just enough so she won't judge me. So that she doesn't really see how awful I am deep down. I know I pay her to help me; I need to trust that she's there for my best interest. Trusting is not who I am. Not anymore.

    "So when are you coming back? Two weeks again?"

    "Yup! Sounds great!" I give her my best fake grin and hop out of my chair. "I'll see you in two weeks", I think, "and maybe I'll tell you the other half."
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