I hate myself.

Not really. I dont really hate myself. But I definately hate some of the things I do to myself. When previously I have decided not to. Like some certain habbits or compulsive behaviours.

One thing that I think shines through this whole blog here is my attempt to somehow become more fit (stress on the word "somehow" because I havent really figured out the absolute best way to do it). And what did I do yesterday when I came home after a grueling day of work? I had one of those binge-eatings that happen to me every now and then. Its like you eat something and you dont seem to be able to stop. You are simply like a machine eating and eating and eating...and you dont really care what you are stuffing down your throat..thats just sad. And later I was laying here with a stomach ache feeling extremely sorry for myself. I believe that, along with some others is one of the downsides of living alone. Theres nobody to smack you on your hand and say: "Lay off the cake!"

Nowadays...no, past couple of months I have been tighter with money than normally but there are few things Im not compromising on, like coffee. If you didnt know it, dear Void, Im a little coffee-snob. In the beginning of the year I bought me a coffee-grinder and now every morning I make fresh coffee straight from the beans. And to be honest, coffee-beans dont really cost more than coffee thats already ground...go figure.

This blog title probably sounds like a teenagers cry but Im far from it. First, Im not a teenager anymore. Its scary sometimes when I go down the memory lane and catch myself saying something like : oh, remember that day 10 years ago.

Secondly, I dont hate myself. Seriously. Im the only one I have, the only Me. And I think that over the years of growth and turmoil, I have made peace with myself. Oh yes, I do have times when I dont love myself as much as on my best days, but I really find comfort in being me, being content with who I am.