No Easy Answers…

  September 20th, 2010 by Shelly

Okay so everyone always wants to know what my problem is, why I feel this way or why I seem totally unable to make things better. But for fucks sake they don’t know me, or my history, so they’re in no position to judge! The fact is if they did, they’d probably understand why I want to die as badly as I do. And trust me it’s such a long, sordid and sad story that half the time I wouldn’t even know where to start or how to explain. Sometimes I look at the way my life has turned out and it makes me fume with rage while other times it fills me with sadness or else it just leaves me numb… and often makes me burst into tears. If I could turn back the pages of time and rewrite my past to make things better I would, I really would. But no matter how awful it makes me feel in the here and now I simply can’t undo all that damage, suffering and hurt. For as long as I can remember I’ve had major self esteem and self worth issues, major self image and self hatred issues and also major self destructive and self harm issues. Or to put it another way I’ve always loathed myself and seen myself as disgustingly fat, ugly and deformed and I’ve never had any confidence whatsoever in my potential or my abilities and I constantly feel like I’m unworthy of anything I do or anyone who might love, value and care for me as I invariably end up hurting them and that in turn makes me wanna bash my face in, slash my wrists or blow my brains out! Most of the time I feel like I don’t belong in this world either, like I’m a total outsider no matter where I am or who I’m with. I’m normally just soo lost in my own tortured thoughts, feelings and memories that I find relating to other people really difficult and know I come across as too intense, awkward and distracted… and maybe as a bit of a tryhard as well. The painful fact is I’ve screwed up my life in so many ways and made so many terrible mistakes it makes me feel sick, and at age 38 I find myself living on the margins of society in a situation that at the moment is looking bleaker and more uncertain than ever. So you guessed it, that’s where the suicide factor comes into play.

When I was younger my family situation wasn’t very nice and after I ran away from home to begin my transition we became soo completely estranged from one another that even when my mum, three of my grandparents, an uncle and my dad passed away I wasn’t there to be with them. As for my remaining family well it’s unlikely that I’ll ever see or hear from them again. But what they don’t care to know is that I never stopped loving my mum for one moment and I desperately wanted to let her know how I still felt and reconcile with her, and oh god how I longed for her to hold me in her arms! A few well meaning people have said to alleviate my feelings of grief perhaps I should write a note to her then burn it, but I’m sorry I just don’t believe in superstitions like that… she’s gone forever, what difference will that make? To complicate matters even further one of the people I live with is chronically ill, and it now seems that the onus of responsibility for his care has shifted more and more onto me. However I’ve quietly been planning to kill myself before I turn 40 and this whole affair is making me feel incredibly compromised, manipulated and forced into staying alive longer than I want to. So I feel at present like screaming at someone, breaking something or tearing my hair out in frustration at the sheer unfairness of it all. I mean why can’t anyone see I’ve become so fed up with living in this world that I don’t want to be here anymore, and just, let me go.

Yours Warmly, Shelly.

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