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Salford, Manchester, United Kingdom
I'm Hannah, I'm a student who loves fashion, loves journalism and loves cheerleading. I have a bit of a fetish for all things strange, and as you have guessed i am myself rather odd. My blog is about anything that pops into my head and, of course, the fact that i have never been happy with myself.

Monday 18 October 2010

Self Sabotage

I realised something today.
I am a very confusing person.
in fact i am a walking contradiction.


I crave attention, yet when it's given shy away
want people to love me for me, yet try to make myself beautiful
i build things to amazing lengths, just to destroy then with my own hands
i expect someone to be able to love me, yet I'm filled will self loathing.


I get so obsessed with things in my life, I analyse every little detail and try to solve every single problem. The one problem i can not solve is myself. I have spent my life in two different phases. Trying to please everyone else, this just ends in me being unhappy because i can not make everyone else happy or give them what they need. And trying to please myself, which i can not do because to please myself i need to be happy which is something i seem completely incapable of.


Are you seeing the same pattern i am here?
Why is it i can't make myself happy? Why can i not love myself?
Surely it can't be that hard, most people can do it, it's not like rolling your tongue when only a percentage of the population can complete the task.
From being a small child i decided my life's ambition would be to live happily. Sounds simple right? Wrong!! For some unknown reason i can not be happy. I am plagued with self doubt and a feeling of worthlessness.


I have tried religion, i have tried belongings, i have tried sex and relationships and giving myself and my time to others. 


The only time i am truly happy is when i dance, because i don't have to think of anything, i can just enjoy the moment. i cannot spend my whole life dancing or exercising. Why am i like this, I'm not a perfectionist in my work, my home, my clothes or appearance, my belongings. Why do i have to be perfect in my own eyes to be able to love myself?

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