Ok here goes.
I’ve hated my life from the moment I became aware that life sucks hard. I was 10 when my loser, self hating mother died. I say self hating because she was married to an emotionally distant man who only bothered to turn up to impregnate her every so often. She got sick, he didn’t care. In fact I remember distinctly how he would take my sister and I to his girlfriends (yes plural) whenever she had a hospital appointment (they would turn on the TV and reappear when it was time to go home, nice). Interesting to note now that he was a Minister and made a living off of telling everyone to live by the Book.
Anyway one morning he called his spawns and simply said ‘mom is dying’, I remember running downstairs (Docs recommended she go home) only to find various relatives crying over her body.
Things got more interesting when we had to live with daddy dearest, he didn’t like us and we had the bruises to prove it. No one helped, no one cared. And so it went on till I was old enough to fend for myself.
I can’t begin to count the amount of times I’ve tried to escape from this mode of non-living. I get a release from cutting and drinking but it doesn’t last. Wish I could afford to be a bloody smack head, my job sucks.
I’m sick, sick, sick of it all. And I’m sick of not being able to just sleep and never wake.