Guilt

I think it started when I was a lot younger than I am now. I now realize that in the past I fed off of guilt. Somehow, I liked the feeling of making people feel guilty, making them feel regret. And I was that way because I was sick and tired of myself being a magnet for those emotions. Maybe then, I wanted people to feel what I felt. Every little event that happened to me always started to build up through the days into something big, and I would always just look at the things I had done, and just say ‘Man, my life sucks.’
Which of course I knew was a very selfish thing to say; there are other people way more worse than me, who have a reason to feel like this.
So then, I thought of all the emotions I had were just part of growing up, a weird stage that I was going through.
I remember just laying down on my bed and trying to gather up all the bad things that had happened to me so far in the years I had lived.
On my mothers side, an extremely bitter fight had broken out after the death of my grandfather.
On my dads side, the family had sued each other after my uncles death.
My parents seemed to treat me worse as I grew up.
I had seen my grandfather’s dead body.
I’ve spent the last few years seperated from the relatives I used to be so close to, just because maybe of their choice of living and their mom’s mistakes.
Then I thought to myself. My family is just really fucked up.
I didn’t want to bring up school social problems, because that was a huge pile of crap that even I knew was stupid.
Friends?
I used to have so many good friends.
What happened to them?
I don’t know. Because that is definately the question. They either get messed up in the head by other people, change voluntarily, leave…
And all the things I can bear to remember about them are the good times we had.

I could remember the countless times I wanted to kill myself. I thought that this world was pretty mean and I couldn’t live up to it. At one point, I cut myself (but it was only once. And don’t judge me).
Then I went through some sort of epiphany. My friend was going through the same thing. We would talk on the phone for hours just stating our reasons. The thing was, she was sort of the popular girl in school everyone liked, which really wasn’t me.
So then I realized, I don’t want to die, I just want this to all end.
And it took a lot of effort to do that.
I moved to another state, met people, almost had a boyfriend, almost got normal. The normality part was the thing I loved the most.
I guess I got pretty bummed when I had to move back to where I was before because of my mom’s job.
But I was pretty happy. As corny as it sounded, I found myself. But it was just a piece of myself, I learned through experience.
When I got back, I just went out there to the school and lived life to its fullest. In doing so, I got in a LOT of trouble, but that was the fun part of it, wa sn’t it?
For the past couple of weeks I’ve been thinking like this.

So what if my family is fucked up? So what if I lost a couple of friends? So what if the world just naturally sucks? So what if you can’t live with yourself? So what if you’ve never found love? So what? We’re all gonna die in the end anyways. So I’m just going to try to learn how to enjoy life, even if I have to go to extremes.