Happy Birthday to me

I just really and truly want to collapse and die. I can’t even explain how shitty I feel within myself. Tomorrow is my birthday and my rent is due. £840. I’ve spoken to my mother she says that she doesn’t have money plus she has to pay for cousin’s university tuition. I feel so disgusted with myself. In hindsight, it would have been better for me to have stayed at the ice rink until I got paid.

I just didn’t want to stay in Birmingham, plus my parents were annoying me, plus I just needed to be myself, plus I thought that I would just start working straight away like it was last year. I want to kill myself. I don’t think I can write any further today.


Day 183

I am done with this world. I’m going to Switzerland next week and I pray I have the courage to overdose myself and drown myself in the Lake Geneva.

I’m sick and tired of feeling this way. Many, many years of being unhappy. Many years of being broke. Many years of being unskilled. Many years of being unloved. Many years of being ugly. Many years of self-pity.

I was not cut out for this world. I was pushed into it.

Currently my bank balance stands at about £780 into my overdraft. I owe about £680 on my credit card. I don’t have a steady job.

I quit working my marketing job yesterday.

I’m tired. I don’t know what I am doing with my life. So I want to end it as soon as possible. Geneva be my dream come true.

Day 181

I don’t feel like writing. I feel blocked. I’m such a shitty writer and I just want to die because nobody loves me and I don’t have any money. And I don’t have any ambitions or goals. I’m living my life for others. I just want to run away. I can’t even write a sentence without starting with ‘I’. That’s how shit of a writer I am. I just want to die. Maybe next month when I go to Geneva, I’ll stay there and claim asylum. They treat homeless people better there. Maybe I should just do that. I can’t do shit that my heart does not want to do.
Everyday I’m depressed of how poor I am. It’s so depressing. I want to kill myself. Ihave to order some more dolls. I need that 100mg dose because 50mg is shit on my body. I also need to lose weight. I constantly feel heavy everyday. I seriously need to lose some serious weight. Like who really will see me as attractive. I look like a fucking potatoe. So annoying. I like my potatoes baked. I would marry for money. I love Jesus but I would marry for money. It’s hard for a Romantic like me to not have money. I see the world in a different way so I need to have money.

I don’t like working. I’m just going to be honest. Working is not nice when you don’t enjoy what you’re doing. I think to myself, what would Catherine enjoy doing? The only thing that Catherine would enjoy doing is talking to lonely people and helping them heal from their pain and making them feel loved. Also I would love to be an angel investor, and help people bring their dreams to fruition. And my shisha business. I would just love to have a shisha lounge where people are just exchanging ideas and discussions because that is what it’s all about. Not fucking scrolling through your phone and not talking to your friends.

So what else. I would also love to go on a Bible course, to learn deeper about the Bible and feel at one with Jesus and live passionately for Jesus.
I would also love to help influence internal policies of Nigeria so that the country can have better infrastructure. Cos at the moment its fucking shit.

Also I want to bring jobs to Italy I want to be a leading voice in Italy internal policies.
Alsooo, I want Nigeria to invest in the tourism sector. I know Nigeria can make so much money from tourism but unfortunately is dickheads we have for leaders but I want to bring about that change or at least help.

So basically I’m international.

But here I am sat in my office and not knowing how to write. Maybe I should retire as a writer since I’m such a shit writer. I got at most 3 people read my petrodollar essay. How lovely jubbly.

Day 180

Yesterday, I basically spent the whole day with Janam and I loved it. But today I texted him good morning, and he hasn’t replied me. I’m insecure about myself.

I don’t feel I should be in a relationship. I wish I was like Leah, fully secure about myself. I want to die. I want to commit suicide. I feel like I’m such a hard person to love because I’m so fucked up.

I’m stuck in a situation where I’m desperately needing money. I don’t know how to start my own business, what business to start, but mostly I’m just driven by fear. I hate myself so much.

And all day, I’ve been thinking that if Janam had the option of being with me or Leah, he would choose Leah. Anyone would choose Leah over me. And I miss my friend.

Why am I so ugly? Why am I so incompetent in everything I do? Why can’t I be profitable? Why can’t I run a successful business that generates income? Why did I sell my fucking shares?

The only thing I’m good at is letting men to fuck me and treat me like the cheap whore I am.

If Janam were to find someone like Leah, he would always never forget to text her everyday. He would bring her to his house even if his father protests, he would buy her the most expensive clothes and gifts, he would do everything nice for her.

Every man I’ve been with has treated me like dirt because I’m dark skinned.

Not a single person wants to accept my pitches. I’m just such an unloveable person.

I know I’m throwing a pity party but I just can’t help it.

I just want to die. I’m not good enough for anything or anyone.

Day 178 – my semi-suicide note 

I want to die. I crave for death so desperately. I can’t write. I can’t think clearly. I don’t know who I am. All I know are my weaknesses, my bad deeds, I’m unworthy. I don’t enjoy being a human being. There’s not a single person in this world I can be fully relaxed around.

I just want to die. I live with no potential. I am lazy. I am disgusting inside out. I am weak. I should never have been conceived. I’m made up of empty promises. How can others want me when I don’t even want myself.

Please Jesus let me die VERY soon – in my sleep. Let me die. I hate myself so much.

I’m tired of pretending I know what I’m doing. I’m tired of being around people that don’t stimulate me. I’m tired of living in this body. I’m tired of being incompetent in anything I do. I’m tired of never feeling enough. I’m tired of forever looking and feeling ugly. I’m tired of being inconsistent. I’m tired of taking pills. I’m tired of feeling everyone is out to get me. I’m tired of being a human being. I’m too lazy to live.