I’m not feeling very thankful today. I’m not thankful for wondering why I don’t deserve what other people take for granted, and I’m not thankful for knowing the exact reasons why I don’t deserve it.

Fuck.

I dream of things I’ll never have and things I’ll never have again. I dream about all of the people I’ve cared about and disappointed. I dream of killing small, furry, cute symbols of everything that has gone wrong in my life. I dream of nameless faces turning savage and brutal for reasons that I can’t figure out, and I dream of those faces turning their blind rage towards me. I dream of various aspects of my life turning into literal battlegrounds, and I watch the primary players in those mini-dramas being torn to shreds because I can’t save them. I dream of death every single night. I dream of regret, because I am regret; I dream of every scenario in which I could have made a difference, I could have turned things around, if only I had tried.

In other words, I dream of all the things that I hate about myself, every single night, and more often than not, I wake up in the middle of the night crying.