Imagine, if you will, an old episode of Scooby Doo, where the person in the costume runs around scaring people for the hidden treasure. The gang sets up a trap and everything goes wrong, but somehow, they catch the bad guy and everything is all good. Now imagine, that the guy in the suit, is not actually a suit, and it's actually a real monster. Now imagine that rather than scaring people, the monster is killing people. Let's keep imagining, now, that the gang shows up, sets up a trap and everything goes wrong. Not hard to imagine, since it happens in every episode, but this time, let's go with everything goes wrong, but they don't catch the monster. Instead, the monster chases them down, captures, and kills them. Let's take a small step back, now. Rather than just killing the gang, the monster tortures them, keeping them alive for days on end, and just before they die, he heals them before returning to the torture.
Currently, that's what it feels like is happening to me. Everything that can go wrong, has gone wrong, and I am being tortured. Only instead of being tortured by a monster, I am torturing myself. I know it's my fault, but I must be on a horrible self-destructive streak, because almost everything I do makes things worse.
I hate myself.
