No one really understands

how much hate and anger and bitterness and all dark feelings a person can harbour within themselves until they themselves harbour such feelings.   The amount of hate I have for myself, for the person I was/am, for my past is so vast that I cannot handle it.  It is so great, this hate and darkness I have within me, that I am constantly trying to run away from it; run away from myself.  Last year I moved to a big city 2 hours away from my hometown, changed my name slightly, didn't know anyone, but that wasn't enough. The big city did help drown me in a sea of people, but it also got me wrapped up in all the partying and made me realize how lonely I actually am.  I was also still too close to my hometown, too close to my past and the person I hated most, myself, was still there. My true self, the habits I hate, the things that I sometimes realize were embarrassing  the things I said all popped out from time to time.   I moved this year to a city 9 - 10 hours away from my hometown; no one knows me there, the city is big but friendly in a kind way and I had all last year to master hiding my true self away.  The program at the university is something I greatly enjoy, and working  a lot to pay the bills is hard, but does take my mind off things sometimes. I cannot wait to finish university and move to Europe - I'll be so far away and perhaps I'll finally be a bit at peace.  I remember two summers ago I went to Europe to visit family for 2 months and it was great.  No one knew me, no one knew my past, no one knew what kind of person I was and I was so far away from "home" it felt like it wasn't part of me anymore.  The moment I met up with friends from Canada in Spain for a week - all these emotions, frustrations and anger came back to me - like a train in full speed.  I realized once again how unhappy I was with my life and how much I wanted to start my life over again, from scratch and how everything associated with my past and  real life brought me pain.  Oh how much I wanted to run away from it all.  When I landed in Canada I cried in the car ride back from the airport, my dad was driving and he didn't know why I was crying.  I was crying because I hated myself so much that everything that was ever associated with me brought those feelings back and because I realized for the 100th time how miserable and sad and unhappy I was with myself.
I came back - present time- to my parents for the holidays and even though I am only here for 10 days each day my frustration grows and each day I just want to scream, cry and just run and keep running. I cannot pretend to be someone else in this house, in this town, but when I'm far away, on my own I can pretend to be anyone I want to and I can forget some of the pain.

I hate myself.  I hate myself so much that I don't even know if there's any room to love again.