I am 22. I don’t know how I am still alive. My life has been… fraught … I was molested by a priest at 5, then by my mother (who was a histrionic narcissist) from around 7 to 14. I was raped at 16. Kicked out of home at 15. My mother died after having cancer for 7 years 6 years ago, at Christmas. I was bulimic and cut myself as a teenager for years. I have been in therapy, hospitalized and medicated. My parents moved countries before my mother died, leaving me to fend for myself since 16. I have had 3 serious suicide attempts. About 6 month ago I started stripping, because I literally had no money for food, was unemployed, in a new country, with all my student loan repayments weighing on me and NO ONE left to ask for money.
I have travelled with the money from the stripping, but since arriving in this city, I can’t work. I mean, I can’t bring myself to do it. But I need money. So I am *this* close to becoming a prostitute.
I haven’t left the apartment I’m staying in in days. I’m almost out of money, won’t be able to eat soon… I think about killing myself obsessively, but I don’t want to get blood on the carpet. And I’m too afraid to leave the apartment. Also, the guy who lives here is away, and he’s so nice, I don’t want him walking in on my corpse in a few weeks.
No-one knows these things about me. I finished high school, then university with good grades. I’m in a creative industry and on my way to building a career for myself. According to them. I have always had relatively normal relationships, boyfriends, friends. I have been ‘stable’ for a long time, according to them.
I haven’t spoken to friends or my brother in weeks, they think I’m happy, working on a novel, living it up in the big city.
After my last suicide attempt I felt clarity, purpose, hope, spirituality awakened… it only lasted a few months, but it was nice.
Where did it go? Why don’t I feel hope anymore?