I Hate Myself Quotes Novels & Stories

“I don’t know how to live through this without you.” I waited for something to happen, for him to answer me. But he was not in there anymore. My fingers squeezed the bowl. Ash spilled over the edge. “I hate them,” I said, louder, and my voice did not sound like mine. “I hate them for taking you.” I clenched my jaw hard. Something inside my chest broke. “I hate myself more.” I lifted my hand and let the ash fall. It landed on the white cloth, and it felt wrong to do.

This is my home now. My luggage stacked like rubbish waiting to be taken out. I clenched my fist. Pressed my teeth together so hard my jaw ached. "I hate myself!" The words tore out of me loud and raw, bouncing off the shelter walls. I hit the seat with my palm. Once. Twice. "Fuck! I hate men! I hate everybody!" My voice cracked and broke and I let it.

in her own way, a way that was not love, that was never love, that was something else, something I cannot name, something that resembles fear, hatred, jealousy, possession, everything except what a mother should feel for her daughter, even a daughter who is not her own, even a daughter she raised out of obligation, out of duty, out of interest, out of fear, I hated myself, Élianor, I hated myself, and I still hate myself, every day, every hour, every minute, every second, since I recovered my memory, since I know who I am, where I come from, where I am going, what I did, what I was, what I am, what I will be, since I know that I abandoned you, left you, forgot you, you, my daughter, my baby

I didn’t even reαlize I wαs crying until I felt it. The teαrs. Sliding down my fαce while my chest αched like something inside me hαd crαcked open. "Alphα—" Richαrd sαid gently. "I hαte myself‚" I cut him off. "I hate myself more than she hates me." "Then do something αbout it‚" he sαid softly. "Go αfter her. Apologize. Show her you’re sorry. It’s not too lαte. It might feel like it is... but it’s not. Not if you meαn it."

My fingers curl tightly around the steering wheel, and tears stream down my face. I don’t know where I’m going. I have no plans. I’ve shut off my phone; I don’t want to see all the hateful things people have to say about me. I know how to hate myself i don’t need anyone else to do it for me. I made this mess, I fucked things up. I did all of this.

I hated him. I hated this. But worse... I hated myself more. Because deep inside... some part of me... wanted it.

I hate myself for this, I hate myself for this so much, I just can't forgive myself at all. I'm hurting him,I know I am. It's sad I can't be with who I want to be with.

I hate myself for getting involved with him. I hate myself to spending so much time with him. Time that I could've been using to find Jack. More tears pool into my eyes as I look down at the water below me, feeling tears stain my cheeks as my emotions get the best of me. Why can't I do anything right? Why can't I ever do anything fucking right?! What's the point of even being here anymore?! I should just fucking kill myself.

Just emptiness. And I hated myself for it. “Useless. Incompetent. Fool.” I growled, seated alone at the bar in my living room. My hand trembled as I slapped my cheek. My eyes were bloodshot from holding back tears I didn’t want to show, and I couldn’t hold them anymore. “Useless. Useless.” I whispered again, hitting myself once more before finally breaking. The tears poured out, and I sank into myself. Why me? Why all of this?

I hate myself. Countless times she had cried, pleading for me to believe her and save her from the immense torture she was buried in, but I had emotionlessly ignored her. I hate myself. I had considered everyone’s words regarding the incident of my father’s death, forgetting that her words mattered the most. — forgetting that she truly loved me too much to want to hurt me that way, and in reaction, I had called her a murderer. I had broken her heart… I fucking hate myself! I motioned to smash something now, but then I timely stopped myself from doing so. I was all alone in a room now, so I didn’t want to make noise and destroy anything because the room wasn’t mine. It was hers.