Why Do I Hate Repeating Myself Novels & Stories

I feel tired, I feel weak. But... I wonder why I don't want to give in? Why do I still want to keep trying? I am acting so stupid, foolish, stubborn. This is the easy way out for me yet... I still want to... I want to... I want to keep trying. Again and again and again and again and again...

“I hate myself. I hate myself” I repeated, as tears streamed down my face. I screamed my lungs out. I did it again. And again, and again but I didn’t feel any better. My heart was heavy… too heavy that I couldn’t bring myself to stop crying or even feel the slightest bitterness. Why me? Why me God? Each time I fall in love something bad just has to happen. Am I not destined to be loved and in love? Am I not worthy of love? Am I not deserving of that peaceful love?

Finally the voices start to fade away. Dr Ann said it was all in my imagination that people don’t actually despise me. That they had their own problems to worry about and “wouldn’t waste so much of their thoughts on you” but I was right. I was right all along. Everyone hates me….everyone hates me….everyone hates me…everyone hates me…everyone hates me… everyone hates me… everyone hates me… everyone hates me.

All for nothing. Everyday, for five years, I've been living in repetition. Someone once said insanity means doing the same things over and over again while expecting a different result. I'd like to add that insanity is so much deeper than that. It's also doing the same things over and over again while feeling parts of yourself dying a little more each day.

“You're not going to do anything rash, are you?” I forced myself to remain calm, or as calm as a raging man could be. “Address,” I repeated myself. “If I have to ask a third time, I'm killing you right after I'm done with Melissa.” If there was one thing I hated, it was repeating myself. “I'll text you the address.”

I said to myself repeatedly. "He's a failure not me!" I said to myself. "I can't fail in my revenge against you, Killian," I said to myself. "I can't fail in my revenge against him, the man who caused me pain," I said to myself again. "I should not fail in my revenge on him," I keep on reminding myself. I was so busy reminding myself of my true purpose that I didn't realize I had reached my room. I immediately took a shower to get rid of my irritation from the emotion I felt earlier after Killian hugged me.

I knew that he hated himself for hurting people around him more than anything. And I also knew he couldn't help but do the same thing again. And again. "That's because you do everything you need to, but like always, you do nothing you want to. You don't speak. You don't communicate. That's not how people will understand you, Heath. You'll have to make them understand what you want."

I didn't mean to do it. The words repeat inside my head, over and over, but they don't mean anything anymore. I didn't mean to burn them. I didn't mean to lock Caidy in the dark. I didn't mean to break her. I keep telling myself that, but the more I repeat it, the more pathetic it sounds. It's the same excuse I've used before, and now I can't even stand to hear it in my own head. What good is I didn't mean to when someone is already hurt? What good is it when the damage is already done and I can't take any of it back?

“Why not?” His entire being quaked and words poured out a stilted mess. “I hate that he still has that much power over me. I hate that he can get a reaction out of me when no one else can. I hate it’s a test to see if I’m strong enough to fight this…fucking rage I inherited from him. I’ve tried so hard not to end up like him. So fucking hard and when I act this way, I’m exactly like him and I hate it. I hate myself.”

“What I’m trying to say is that if it wasn’t for something in my past, she wouldn’t be able to do any of this. I bear the responsibility for everything that’s happening. So, I'm really sorry.” Taking a deep breath, I grew increasingly bored with the repetitive events that seemed to dominate my days. It was as though I was constantly trading one unpleasant experience for another. If Hailey wasn’t trying to kill me, then Amby was pestering me. It was becoming monotonous and tiresome.