What if it's true?

The nasty things about myself that I'm afraid might be true are confirmed when someone doesn't return a call, text or doesn't invite me to something.  Laughing at me, criticizing in any way- cut right through my heart and leave me in pieces.  The only thing that's kept me from only attempting suicide twice over all these years is the frail hope that the demon in my brain is wrong about me.  When someone doesn't love me back (perceived by the tiniest shift in energy from that person, usually having nothing to do with me I later find out, they're sick or lost their dog, etc) all those beliefs become my reality and I can't shake the knowledge belief dark stormy cloud of self-disgust that permeates every aspect of my life.