Why Do I Hate Repeating Myself Novels & Stories

A small laugh escaped her, though there wasn't any real happiness behind it. "I know..." She lowered her eyes to her hands. "I know I'm very good at making a mess but I'm your mess..." I said nothing. She continued speaking, almost as if she were afraid that if she stopped, she would lose the courage to finish. "I don't do it because I enjoy hurting you. I hate that I do it," her fingers tightened together, "Sometimes I think I'm getting better, then something happens and..." She shook her head. "I fall back into the same patterns. I know that's not fair. I know it isn't healthy. I know I keep repeating the same thing," her voice grew quieter, "I wish I knew how to stop."

Reflective pain now. The ache of realizing emotional labor had quietly replaced peace. My chest tightened sharply. One aware pattern finally admitted quietly— “Sometimes I explain myself repeatedly even after people already understand me.” Another whispered— “And sometimes I keep talking because part of me hopes I can finally make someone care enough to understand.” More silence followed. Then another confession. “I don’t know how to stop defending myself constantly.” That one spread deepest. Because beneath over-explaining often lived another hidden wound: the belief that your truth only matters once everyone else agrees with it comfortably.

Feeling more upset with myself, I got up from the bed and went to grab a glass of water. Kill yourself, Adriana. Her voice rattled through my brain again and I closed my eyes shut, almost slamming the glass of water on the table. Why? Why do I keep replaying that sentence in my head? It was just a dream...right? So why, why does it seem so real...? Like it really happened before-

He instructed me, and I did. "Are you okay?" He questioned me again. "Yes! I am okay! I am fine. Nothing is wrong with me. How many times do I have to fucking tell you? Can't I live my life in peace?" She shrugged her arm, walking away from me. Why do I keep on repeating statements? It was annoying at this point. "If you claimed that you were really okay, How could you get to say that to our daughter? Now she is blaming herself for the deaths of her siblings? Do you want to lose another child emotionally again?" He spoke slowly.

Huffing as a memory flashed into my mind, accompanied with that alluring voice of his. Let me in The words echoed through my brain again and I groaned into my pillow frustrated. I'm so clumsy! I'm going to repeat it till I stop! I slapped my forehead repeatedly recycling the word dummy till my head hurt. I knew that I was probably overreacting, but that's just how stupid I felt. I know it wasn't my fault I tripped, I mean let’s face it, it could have happened to anyone! But it didn't-! It happened to me!

It was a bleak and desperate predicament, for I was acutely aware that Justin, no matter how much I implored or pleaded, would not deign to engage in conversation with me. I find myself caught in a never-ending loop of repetition, like a broken stereo playing the same tune on repeat. No matter how many times I try, I can't seem to escape the cycle of foolishness that unfolds before his eyes. It's as if he's made up his mind never to engage in conversation with me, regardless of the circumstances.

"… That's the reason why history has been repeating itself, again and again." "Pardon…?" "…We ask for 'forgiveness' too easily, like a beggar bowing their heads and extending their hands in humble receipt. If I made the same mistake over and over… will you forgive me again and again? Even if you could, I'm sure there's one day you will be tired." "…………"

That would really be nice. Okay I need to stop. I think I'm hating on myself a bit too much. I really shouldn't. Maybe I should? It's not healthy but I can't help hating on myself. I honestly can't. It all just comes so organically. Time to shut up now. ….

The sheer scale of such an atrocity was horrifying, yet my memory remained stubbornly, infuriatingly blank. If only I could remember. If only I thought to write it down, just like every other thing that I had written down. The irony of my meticulous nature, my obsession with documenting every detail of my repeated existence, was a cruel twist of fate. If only, alongside all those other equations, all those observations, I had remembered to itemize the reason for this stupid curse…maybe…just maybe…I would have had a clue as to why this was happening. The weight of my oversight pressed down on me, heaping with it, the burden of self-hatred.

I wasn't a malicious person by nature, I was surprised that I had this much malice within me. But now I knew that deep down, all I really wanted was an apology of any form. It didn't have to be direct, it didn't have to be the words “I'm sorry” but it had to make me know, make me feel relieved and safe. It had to assure me that what had happened would never repeat itself. But most of all, I realized that the person I most hated was myself. For a long time I had slowly begun to hate myself, I hated the fact that I was weak, I hated the fact that I was pathetic. I just wanted to be loved.