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redundantthinking:

The best way I can describe my self esteem is like this. I’m a cup. My entire body holds water. That water is self esteem. On some days I can keep the water in. Sometimes I can get myself half way full of water. 

Most days, though, I can barely get it beyond my waist.

Then there are days where I am dry on the inside, filled with cracks and dust, and no matter how much water I drink, I can’t get full.

But there other days when I can get more than half way and I feel wonderful and alive and worth something

but I hate those days the most because I know the worst days are about to come. It’s inevitable. One day I wake up and the littlest thing can cause a crack in me—and then slowly the water drips out and I leave puddles of my worth behind. Every step makes me feel emptier and emptier until I realize there’s nothing in me anymore and I don’t know where the leak is coming from. All I know is I’m dry and empty again, worthless and probably broken, and no matter what anyone says, I can’t get any more water in me. And it hurts. It hurts a lot more than I’d want it to.

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