I'm not proud of the person I am, I'm not proud of the person I was, but I'll be proud of the person I will be.
I am spiteful and consumed by hatred and jealousy— I make a lot of mistakes. I ignore my friends sometimes when I'm overwhelmed and spiral. I forget people care about me. I am fake and have talked behind people's backs more than just a few times. I did a lot of things my morals do not agree with. I'm not someone that everyone likes and I'm pretty sure a lot of people that I consider close to my heart dislike me because I can be a fickle and cruel person.
I'm still learning how to be myself. I'm still learning how to cope. I'm still learning how to be courageous for myself and take action regarding my anxiety, depression and spiraling thoughts. I'm still learning how to control my emotions and pick out my words carefully so that I'm not misunderstood.
I'm not the best person — I'm reminded every day how much my former best friends that got me through most of high school despise me, save for 1-3 people, and continue to talk ill of me, opting to call me "she (who shall not me named)" or "[redacted]." I'm reminded by the silence in a room or a group chat and the whispers (that aren't really whispers at all) about how terrible of a person I am whenever I happily contribute to something or speak out. I'm reminded by seeing the [add friend] or [follow] option, and more often than not, an error matching a faceless profile picture whenever I want to see how certain people are doing, despite how much hurt it will bring me. I'm constantly being reminded through my memories, words, and art of how pitiful and sad I am and how many people I have hurt, including myself.
I know I'm a bad friend, a bad daughter, an irresponsible student — I'm forgetful and impulsive and emotional and extremely, extremely vindictive.
I'm still growing. And maybe I won't improve by tomorrow, or the next day, or the next week, and sometimes I'll fall back and become worse than I already am now. I won't ever get the chance to make it up to any of the people that willingly left me or I have cut off. I won't get the chance to properly express my gratitude for the learning experience for making me better than who I am now, and who I used to be.
But one day, I'll move on with my head held high and a little less insecure.
