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Feels like I'm ripping my innards out like confetti, Throwing it in the face of whomever has the courage, kindness or Lack of warning. Crying, screaming, "Please please please look at me I can't do this alone. I'm so scared and you're so Kind and you definitely care. You care, you told you me care. Why why does it feel like it's not enough? Something is wrong. Oh god, Something I have done has caused you harm. Maybe if I keep digging in I'll find it. Please I'll say anything. Wait, wait Until I find it, please don't leave," I say I as root around and dig into My brain and guts and heart, Until every inch is scraped. "Maybe it's this? Maybe it's my parents? It's definitely my parents. Why doesn't that help? Maybe I need to learn how to communicate better? Maybe it's my internalized hatred, My anxiety and depression, anything. What is wrong with Me? Maybe it's You? Oh god, no I'm so sorry I didn't mean to suggest that" And I go on and on and on until I wear them down into dust, Unrecognizable and tired. Then, unsatisfied and guilty That I've done such an awful thing, I dig again.
0
Jan 18
Jan 18, 2026 at 7:28 PM UTC
My Innards Like Confetti
Feels like I'm ripping my innards out like confetti, Throwing it in the face of whomever has the courage, kindness or Lack of warning. Crying, screaming, "Please please please look at me I can't do this alone. I'm so scared and you're so Kind and you definitely care. You care, you told you me care. Why why does it feel like it's not enough? Something is wrong. Oh god, Something I have done has caused you harm. Maybe if I keep digging in I'll find it. Please I'll say anything. Wait, wait Until I find it, please don't leave," I say I as root around and dig into My brain and guts and heart, Until every inch is scraped. "Maybe it's this? Maybe it's my parents? It's definitely my parents. Why doesn't that help? Maybe I need to learn how to communicate better? Maybe it's my internalized hatred, My anxiety and depression, anything. What is wrong with Me? Maybe it's You? Oh god, no I'm so sorry I didn't mean to suggest that" And I go on and on and on until I wear them down into dust, Unrecognizable and tired. Then, unsatisfied and guilty That I've done such an awful thing, I dig again.
This is hard
CorduroyLee
Written by
28/GQ/Rhode Island
Jan 18
Jan 18, 2026 at 7:28 PM UTC
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