Paul's "day by day" is a raw, honest portrait of someone caught between self-hatred and a sense of duty. The speaker starts with a simple wish to be themselves, and the best version of themselves, but quickly admits they can't control their own mind. That loss of control turns into a spiral: they hate themselves, then hate themselves more for the hating.
What keeps the speaker going isn't hope but responsibility. They smile and joke so others won't worry, and they stay alive for "her," who seems to depend on them. Even the promise that things will get better feels like something other people say, not something they believe. The last line undercuts it completely: it "gets worse day by day."
The mood is heavy, tired, and quietly desperate. The plain, almost conversational language and the lack of polish make it feel like a confession rather than a performance. It's a poem about hiding pain behind a smile, and it deserves to be read with care.