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This is all my fault

I'm to blame. From start to finish. I'm not good enough. I don't work hard enough. I'm not able to get a grip on myself. I feel ashamed and I don't tell anyone near to me, no-one knows and so no-one can help. And still I carry on making my life worse than it needs to be and bringing anguish on my partner. Who is nothing but hope and support and love and who I push away and pull faces at and criticise and fall silent at innumerable times a day. And still I mess it up.

A gratitude list
My little nephew, who is the best little chap.
I'm warm in my bed, with the chance to try again tomorrow
I still haven't heard every song by Neil Young or Bob Dylan
The poem Annabelle Lee by Edgar Allen Poe
That I'm going to see the TS Eliot prize nominees read their poems at the Southbank Centre
That my partner is being so very wonderful



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