so weak

I’m 39, no family, no friends, 2 cats. They have kept me alive for 10 years. I’ve suffered from deppression for over 30 years. My girlfriend, who I’ve held hostage for 10 years finally gave up. She realized she can’t help me the way I want to be helped. I love to hate myself, I’m locked down. 2 suicide attempts , one accidental OD. I was dead for 9 minutes. 4 years of heroin abuse. 6 years of therapy. I smoke pot like it was free. Sexually abused as a child by my cousin who lived across the street for 3 years. Lived on the street for10 years. Hurt people with violence, syole from people who tried to help. Was betrayed and betrayed others. All these things made me feel something. As far back as I can remember I’ve been suicidal even as a child. My dad found a noose in my closet when I was 11, He didn’t have much to say untill he saw the hook I screwed into the rafter outside my second story window, then He had nothing to say, not a word. Suicide scares people, it scares me. I’ve been like this a long time, such a long, long time. Everything is the same to me now, rolling around on the floor in a room full puppies effects me the same as rolling around on the floor in a room full of severed heads. (Don’t worry, I haven’t done either). I’ve tried every conceivable was I could think of to change this. I”ve thought,”I’m not thinking right”, “Something’s wrong with me”,”If only I could……”, all to no avail. Last week it came to me with such clarity that I’m convinced it must be truth. Here goes, it’s the thoughts. They come automatically, I tell myself things and they are real and true and pure. I can’t change it. I want to be helped the way I want to be helped. I want to help others the way I want to help them. I want to love the way I want to love. I want things the way I want them. Not getting what I want causes pain. I accept this, I own it, it’s my trip. Everyone is on their own trip. Let them have it, let me have mine, I earned these scars, it’s what I know. Resisting the truth, the truth i’ve always known has made me weak, so weak. Nothing left to give, nothing left to take, nothing left to lie about. There is only the truth. My truth is my truth. Your truth is your truth and there probably not the same. I’m on my own out here and I’m so weak.