It's 2:30 am

It's 2:30 am and I'm alone. Sitting. Thinking. Over thinking. Picking apart every mistake, scrutinizing over every stupid thing I've said and agonizing over every minute detail. Reminding myself why I'm a shit. 'That was stupid of me. I'm an idiot. Why did I say that? Why did I fucking say that?' Over and over in my head. I get lost sometimes, asking that question, fitting it into every different memory of my past, spotlighting every insecurity until I can't focus on anything but my own self loathing. I'm tired of this. But it comes so easily. Why do I have to be so hard on myself, it's exhausting. Like damn this bitch really never shuts up. She's always going on about something. Even now as I type this I can hear her. As I try to write about it, she is criticizing me. All the time. Non stop.

Sometimes it's easier to quiet her. Sometimes I can silence the noise for a moment and enjoy the peace. But she knows my fears and my deepest desires. She knows me because she is me. And you can't run away from yourself. So it's 3:30 am and I'm alone. Thinking.