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Super long, super emotional, super triggering. Please read

Super long, super emotional, super triggering.
Please read. I guess I need to hear I matter.
I am probably in my darkest of days.

"I keep wondering whats to come in my life. More pain or something good. I get glimpses of hope -"
"Just enough glimpses of hope to make it through a day"

I probably used to believe that. Now I don't know what I believe anymore..
I believe in Karma.
What goes around comes around.
"Treat others the way you want to be treated"

Life has taken all and given nothing in return.

I have given unconditional love.
Apparently no one likes me, no one loves me.
I am a thing to be used and thrown away.

This has actually happened multiple times.

I have always been a self sacrificing person. It's been ingrained in me since, well since forever. I protected my sister from my mother's abuse and I lost my mind in the process. I literally flunked like 10th grade I think. Then my mom lost the house and we moved in with my dad. If not for him, I wouldn't have graduated.

As soon as I was on my own again, I decomposed. Rapidly.
Whatever you can give me.
Downers, always downers.
More, always more.
(If one is good, two should be better.)

I cycled through these for 15 years.
I've been looking for someone to care for me for 15 years.
(My grandmother died 15 years ago.)

I have stopped "respecting" others. If you deserve it, yes. But you must earn it.
I have rote responses.
"Hi, how are you?"
"I'm fine, how about you?"
"You have a nice day."
A simple nod of the head..
A forced smile.

Any other words from my mouth would be worthy of the man with the butterfly net.
I never put on my "jolly good time" expression/act.
I have stopped putting on a face for anyone.
There is no comedy;
Only tragedy.
I learned what I was made of,
It's not sugar and spice..

No one knows me.
I am dark and empty.
Now, I am truly alone.

That brings us to now.
In the dark.
Mentally f*cked.
With no one.

"Family comes first" (so they say)

Let's get out the book..
I once knew safety; now all that's left is fear.
I am an addict with no drugs.
I am an alcoholic without Whiskey.
I have lost 20 pounds; I am not Bulimic.
I am a lover, not a fighter.
I will be my own downfall.

I am a dreamer; devoid of dreams.
Drowning in the blackest of voids.
I am a bright, vibrant color, cast in black and white.

Years ago, in high school, my family wanted to commit me for my dark poetry.
My aunt told me she was waiting for me to be the next school shooter.
They think everything is wrong because I turned my back on "God" who brings love, (joy), peace, patience, gentleness, kindness, (goodness and faithfulness.) I turned my back on the "God" that invented cancer, and hate him more each day that the person I loved most in the world suffered.
"There is an end to suffering and pain."
That could be a bottle of pills.
A bottle of whiskey.
It could be the barrel of a gun.

I have seen Dante's 9th layer of h*ll.
It is now.
I have always been the type to,
"Just keep swimming.."

But I am truly in a place where no one can reach me.

I used to smile. I used to laugh. I used to go places and see people.
I have zero friends. I was in a relationship for 8 years and he told me he'd never once seen me smile..
(What does that say?)
He left the house when I was having "an episode."
He cut his phone off when he left the house so I couldn't call him.
He used the silent treatment to punish me,
He "got tired of my crying" and left. All the time.

I love him.
He's gone because my family pictured him as an abuser.
So have friends. So have people on the internet.
People who've never met him.

Is this truth?
Did I make the right decision?

I haven't left the apartment except for necessity in probably two weeks.
I scoop the poop, but the pile of poop bags is accumulating.

I'm eating yogurt and granola.
It's actually quite delicious.
But my sister took me shopping and got me sh*t frozen food.
I liked the hot pockets. The tequitos are nummy, but jack my stomach up.
I can't remember my last shower..
The sink is full of dirty dishes.
The garbage is Diet soda cans, banana peels, and yogurt.

I am so manic that nothing can bring me down.
I can leap buildings with a single bound.

"Don't take so many pills."
"Stop abusing medication."
"You need to come off that anti-psychotic!"
I stayed awake for two days. People are like, "Just go to sleep"

No one knows no thing.

*trigger* I've thought about swallowing all the pills and just sleeping forever.

I wonder, "Why am I still alive?"
I've pulled off enough stunts to be dead ten times over.
I've met strangers.
I've actually known two certified sociopaths.
One, known guilty for murder.
My organs were shutting down from Anorexia.
I've had alcohol poisoning, loosely going on nine, ten times?
Sometimes, I had intervention.
Sometimes I wake up to a vodka-vomit soaked bed with no clue.

"Why am I alive?"

My family "cares" about me, but only to the extent that their "caring" can benefit them.
If my emotions aren't "kosher" for them; they stay away, don't call, distance themselves.
Meanwhile, I need to cater to their every whim.
Keep the latch undone so they can come in whenever they want.
Answer my phone every time they call.

I receive no such courtesy.

I spent 8 years loving someone.
I let down my walls and embraced him with all of me.
I had that wall up for 10 years; why did I let him break it down?
I was safe there.
Turns out he's an abusive, **** *sshole.
He used me for a house.
For money.
I miss him anyway..
I miss sharing my stories..
My internet finds..
Crazy news.
Pictures of cats that make me smile.

There is no one.

I am such a sad needy person that I disgust myself.
My dad was online, so I didn't message him.
I wanted to talk. But I -made- myself leave him alone.
Same with others.

I am a sad puppy coming back for the infinity time
Trying once again for affection instead of foul words and a kick.
I'm on the internet. No one to talk to. No one to attend me. No one to coddle me and give me the care I have never been given..
I feel as if opening my mouth/ typing down letters, words, emotions.
Dragging me down.

I bear a heavy load.

I need to just float away..
Disappear on a wisp of the wind.

I have a cacophony
of sound and silence,
of black and white.
Hate and HATRED.
Alone and MORE ALONE.

I hear Satan.
There is no God talking back.
I feel things that aren't things touching me.
Pressure in my head.
No respite.

Just me and my literal demons.

There is noise in the bathroom.
In the music.
Just out of reach.
Trying to touch me..
Trying to get me to understand.
An old jazz song.
A comforting man's voice in the next room.
People who aren't there talking.
My family:
-Talking to me.
-Talking about me..

Like an old ham radio. Truckers talking back and forth and me just a trigger hair off the channel.
The radio staticing out because you're driving away.. The tv when it actually ended at midnight.

I did an activity in a mental health group. I can't remember the exact instructions, but we had to list something we've learned.
"Bruises heal faster than words."
I've begged her to beat me.
To hit me.
To stop the agonizing words coming out of her mouth.
"B*tch, wh*re, c*nt."
That's another lesson I learned: "Be careful with your words."
You can never take back what has been said.
Words will haunt me until my dying day..

I may be hastening toward that day..

I am Richard Parker.
A man lost at sea.
A no one.

Jane Doe

I am Jack,
with Rose out of the water.
I am dead.

I mean less.
My family "needs" me.
For extra pills.
And buddy buddy ego boosting.
And money.

My family "needs" me.
But has no room for me.
So, I am literally alone.
In my quickly darkening bedroom.
They couldn't house my cats.
I was callously told to re-home them.
So, I am alone.

I guess what keeps me alive is music.
And the cats.
The cats actually unconditionally love me, care about me, comfort me when I'm spiraling out of control..

Where does one go from there?

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kisobel's picture
Apr 15

Beautiful, @Penguins!


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