At a very young age, at about 7, I accepted that, in my words and thoughts at the time, “sometimes other people will have what you aren’t meant to”. At the time, I was referring to far simpler things, yet still…. despite feeling very deprived, I struggled on trying to get what I could out of life. Life never seemed to give me back anything for my trying.
See…. by 3 years old, I had already had the skin of my hands boiled off. I don’t remember the event itself, but I sure remember the way my hands looked afterward. I also remember the fact that I never, and still don’t today, know what trust feels like.
I was neglected as well as a child. I never felt love nor loved, and still haven’t. I guess I just wasn’t meant for that. I never developed the ability to feel connected to others, nor to be able to belong with others. I have always felt very alone, even in crowds. Especially in crowds, where everyone else has their friends and whatnot, I have nobody. No friends. No family.
I was disowned by my parents after I came out of the closet as gay. Then my mother turned my family against me. My biological father disowned me at birth. For all that ***** judges me, she oughtta remember her sins.
As a toddler, my mother would let someone she knew was a sex offender babysit me, all because she didn’t want to deal with me. I was molested many times by that man. And I became messed up because of that.
Eventually, the one person that did seem to care, the one who gave me his last name, died in a car accident when I was 4 or 5. My dad, not my biological father, but my dad.
My mom remarried. My step dad was almost murdered in front of my own eyes by my mother. Only to put his hand up, and at 7, I saw her shop into his wrist hard as he tried to block. For the longest time I pretended I didn’t see that. I was even sent with him, me and my brothers, to the hospital to make sure he told the official story, that he cut his hand at work. Perhaps that’s why I’ve never been able to have faith in myself nor others? The fact that out of fear, we all made sure he gave the right story….
There is alot more. It just bothers me to talk about it all at once.
I have suffered alot. I’ve sought help and nothing is working. The wound is too deep.
See, I’m a broken child inside. I’m too broken to be fixed. My entire existence has been to be used and abused, and this needs to stop.
I’m locking up, so I’ll just finish with a post I posted on another forum as well:
I have lived a long life, yet I’m only 23. I’ve been alive for 23 years, but I have yet to live. I’ve been suffering ever since the skin was boiled off my hands at 3. Don’t know who did it. Grew up abused and in and out of placement. I don’t know that I’ve ever been right in the head.
I’ve never felt close to anybody. My mother shunned me, and turned the family against me. I don’t have the social skills to make friends, though I tried. The lack of human contact and comradeship is depressing. Even if where I lived allowed pets, it still wouldn’t suffice for that very human need I can’t have.
I’ve never been anything but a burden to the world. A burden to the system, on which I depend for my sustainance, because I have trouble holding a job due to mental issues. I’m broken beyond repair. It’s too late for me. Though I wish you all the best sincerely!
I’ve never felt like I was wanted around. Eventually, I grew tired of trying. Eventually, I accepted that I have nobody, and will have nobody. But then afterthat, what is there? No reason to live.
Now, all that pain I’ve felt all my life will be gone. No more pain and suffering for me. I’ll finally be free. So be happy for me, not that you ever noticed my existence. I mattered to no one ever. Goodbye.
I can’t even make this. I’m too tired to make it great or grand. I feel like shit. I wish I didn’t.
You may see me, and I may laugh, even laugh at the thought of killing myself. But inside, I’m crying like a small child, begging for this pain to be over. The abusers have moved on, they have their great lives. But me? I have the fragments of whatever I was before I was destroyed.
I have been alive 23 years, but still, I’m not living. So why carry on this way? Why bother? Farewell!
4 comments
I’m really sorry things have been so bad.
My dear one. I’m so, so sorry things have been so difficult for you. You’re going to hate this, but I have good news – You are so young, your brain hasn’t even finished developing yet. Your neurocircuitry is still forming. Your potential is boundless at this age. I KNOW it doesn’t feel like it, I swear to God that I KNOW. But it is. There’s no end to places you could go, things you could do, life you could experience. Sleep on it. Think it over. Or don’t think it over. Just rest your mind. Give yourself a little time, maybe just a day. Do something lovely – go for ice cream. Have sex. Get drunk. Watch a funny movie. See a waterfall, or the stars. There are so many beautiful things in life. I forget about them all the time, and sometimes I have to be reminded too. Go easy on yourself. You didn’t create this situation, but you have the power to change things, to change your perspective, to see just a tiny bit of that beauty that’s so easy to ignore. I’m praying for you, my dear. You can do this. You have made it this far for a reason, no shit.
Okay, you can’t just go around telling people “have sex,” like it’s something they just… forgot to do.
The fact of the matter is that sex is not even available to quite a lot of people, some of whom are quite capable of both enjoying and pleasing others, but yet since we are deemed undesirable, we are shunned and avoided by potential partners.
If anyone here has access to sex… like you can just go get laid whenever you want, as easy as making a sandwich… then why are you even here? It blows my mind to think that there are people who would rather be depressed than having the available sex that they could be having. So many people take it for granted, even to the point of never learning how to properly enjoy the act. Lots of us are depressed because it’s quite obvious that no one wants us, and unlikely that any ever will. Someone like that can’t “just go have sex.” The only “sex” available to these types, is prostitution and rape. I’d be lying if i denied the thought of each has ever crossed my mind… but those are certainly not what i consider acceptable options. So there is no sex available. And there will be none available… because of things i don’t get to choose, and cannot control. So, telling someone who is scalp-deep in despair, to just go do the thing they either have to buy or steal, in order to even be able to feel it, is… quite reckless and ill-conceived.
And getting drunk? What terrible advice for a person overwhelmed with despair, feeling they have literally nothing left to give, and nothing left to gain from any further effort. I seriously doubt that being artificially even more depressed, will help.
Have you ever felt a sadness so deep and relentless that you thought you might die directly from the actual emotional agony itself, without having to lift a finger or even think a thought? Why add alcohol to something like that? Trust me when i say it’s a bad move. It’s such a bad move that it convinced me to never drink again, at all. There are few feelings i’ve ever loathed more.
On the other hand… totally have a peaceful early AM silent sitting, and just watch the sky go from midnight black, to pre-sunrise glowing. Just sit calmly, relaxed, breathe, don’t think, and just look at it.
Be mindful of the words you speak to others. Be mindful of the thoughts you *think, and try not to focus on the intrusive, uninvited, involuntary and spontaneous thoughts that just erupt out of nowhere, sometimes. Let those fade out as quickly as they spark, and think of something you like, something you want to think about, instead.
No one will have “all the answers,” and most won’t have any. Some questions can’t be answered. It’s fun, i suppose, to figure out what they are, and ponder them sometimes… but it’s not something you should approach as needing an answer. Sometimes the best answer is to know there is not a static answer that can be discovered, and that the best you can do is figure out how to cope with never knowing that answer.
Sometimes you just have to start from where you are, and start taking steps in whatever direction seems right, without worrying about whether you’ll later wish you’d gone a different direction, and change your mind.
in my life, sometimes temporary relief is the only relief – my apologies for the irresponsible suggestions.