This is why I'm a bad person.

I'm going to tell you all why I'm a terrible person, and why I deserve terrible things to happen to me; why I deserve to be without love; and why I deserve to be dead.

Well, maybe not to the extent of death but still, I long for it.

From the age of 5 to 13, I wanted to grow up to be a singer/actress. I wanted to be rich, famous, glamorous and sexy as fuck.

When my mom would curl my hair, I'd always get her to position one curl covering one of my eyes for a mysterious, Jessica Rabbit sort of look.

I'd wear feather boas; practice fainting sexily onto a couch; practice my model walk with one hand on my hip, two hands, no hands (variety is the spice of life).

I wore platform heels to school, and tied my shirt up in a knot during gym to show off my "hot bod".

I loved when boys would chase me on the playground trying to kiss me, I loved flirting with boys just so I'd have a higher number of admirers.

This was all going on from kindergarten up until grade two. Grade two is when I had to go to this catholic school where people made fun of me on the first day for literally everything. That's when I stop trying to stand out. That's when I was told that I was ugly and no one liked me and I was weird and annoying and stupid and UGH!!

High school was obviously no better. I never felt pretty or as if anyone liked me the entire time. Probably because my friends ingrained it into my head that I definitely, without a doubt, was ugly annoying and weird, just like everyone else had told me.

This one time when I was like 15 or something, this older, weird ginger dude had a mad crush on me and really wanted to be an item. I obviously said no because I didn't like him like that at ALL, but I remember my one "friend" H, making a huge deal about it. I know she wanted me to go out with him just so she could laugh.

She sent me a text saying, "You know you're not pretty or anything, no one else is going to ever ask you out. Plus he's nice so you should just say yes."

She actually said that. And I actually believed her, and I actually remained friends with her for at least another year.

Sidenote: she was always always a cunt to me. The day before 9th grade, she told all my other friends that I spread all these rumours about how they do drugs or some shit. AND THEY BELIEVED HER. Fuck I hate thinking about this shit still...

Anyway, all of this has made me never believe compliments given to me. To the point where I don't even hear them anymore. I hate myself so absolutely that I... well that I've scarred my body the way I have, and that I've starved it and stuffed it the way I have, that I've allowed people to treat me wrongly, and have agreed that I've deserved it.

Obviously this isn't what makes me a bad person. What makes me a bad person is that I forget that other people have feelings. I forget that sometimes, they need looking after; that they have insecurities; that they need reassurance; and that they don't know what I'm thinking, so they don't know how I truly feel about something unless I tell them.

I forget these things, and it makes me a bad friend. It makes me selfish, and it makes me a terrible person to trust and to love.

I automatically think that everyone hates me and thinks I'm the scum of the earth. SO, why would it matter if I dipped out on plans last minute? They're probably grateful that I bailed again.

Why would they take anything I say to heart? What's the point in opening up? In laying my heart out right there in plain sight? Why should I trust anyone. Why should I?

I'm a bad friend because I don't reply to people. I forget to ask them how they're doing and I forget to follow up. I forget that they feel. I forget their birthdays. I'm no fucking good.

I'm selfish in the sense that I ditch anyone and everyone I go out with. I end up self-destructing and making the night about me, and making them look after me. I'm selfish because if I don't have all eyes on me, then there's something wrong and it needs to be changed NOW.

I'm wrong because I'll purposely make a guy think I adore him just so I can get free premium drinks, but then go upstairs and make out with someone completely different. BUT THEN, while sitting in a circle with a bunch of people, notice another girl there and totally talk her out of the circle.

When I drink, I look for drama. I look to be the best person there. I look to be the one that everyone wants to listen to, and to admire.

I look for love, and then once I have it I like to make people jealous. I want people fighting over me.

When BB and I first got together I did this all the time. I'd sit close to other guys, put my feet up on their chairs, laugh at whatever the fuck they were saying, just to get a rise out of him. Which obviously worked and then I'd stupidly act like I didn't do a thing.

I even think that thing that happened last September was my fault. Because I knew who I was kissing, and I wanted him to want me that entire night. I got him to fucking break up with his girlfriend that night actually. And I fucking whispered his name right before we kissed.

I think I did it for validation actually. I wanted someone who hated me in high school regret the mean things they did, and I wanted them to admit that I wasn't ugly and annoying and weird like they once had thought. I wanted to be an object of fucking desire.

I want to be a girl of mystery and sadness. Someone people want to save. But at the same time, I want to be so confident and loud and sexy, that when I tell them about how sad I actually am, they feel important and special because I've chosen to tell them my intimate secrets.

At the same time, I do know I was definitely drugged that night. Because me going and having sex with some dude from high school while my boyfriend waited for me in the car isn't a limit to which I'd ever push something. And me not knowing where I was, and who I was with originally is all true, also I couldn't stop it once it started; and I did want it to stop.

I shouldn't be to blame, but I know I am.

Most times actually it was me who had pushed BB to flip out on me. I knew he was jealous if I paid too much attention to any guy. I definitely subtly flirted with all his friends. Because again, I love attention, I love being the only girl, I love people loving me.

So I'd eagerly await every word when they'd tell a story. I'd sit almost too close. I'd make sure their drinks were always full, they'd make sure they always had vodka, straws, and ice for me. I'd be so excited for hugs. I'd enchant them with my smile and laughter. I'd make them feel like they were the only person in the room with just my eye-contact. I'd make them all be on my side when my relationship was rough. They'd be the ones to save me. And I did it all on purpose. To make BB jealous.

Of course it worked and of course no one else saw what he saw. Of course he took it too far, of course I was a poor little girl who deserved better.

I always wanted him to push me or hit me or choke me. I don't know why. I just want to be hit. Maybe because I know I deserve it, but he's only ever slapped me 4 times.

I push him when we're fighting, and I get right up in his face, trying to think of what I can say to get him to hit me, but he's always maintained enough control to avoid it.

Even when he ripped through the doors, I kinda wanted it to happen. The first I wanted to see if he'd actually do it; the second to see if he'd really do it again.

I don't know why I'm like this, but I always pretend I'm in a movie. I do things on purpose to get a certain effect and it usually works. They follow my script for the most part.

I've even caught myself doing it with my mother. I could get away with anything if I wanted to. I'm not a fucking idiot. I just play things out a certain way to "accidentally" be caught.

I never thought of it as manipulation for some reason though. Maybe because I've convinced myself that this movie isn't something I created, it's just rolling... or maybe I give such little fucks that I do it for some sort of sick entertainment? I have no idea.

This is why I'm a terrible person.

And I don't know what to do about it. I don't know if I care enough about it, because I care about very little right now. Thoughts of suicide litter my mind. Life is dumb, life is pointless. I'd like to leave.

- Mint.