My life has no meaning. I am triggered, PTSD. He said it, but it is not his fault. It is me, something inside of me. I can’t even remember what we were talking about. But the last thing I remember is he said, “I’ve done that. That industry [the industry I have worked in] is nothing special. It’s old technology. Everybody knows it. It’s not like you’re splitting an atom or something.”
My knowledge is nothing. My experience is nothing. I am nothing. My life has no meaning. That is the progression. There is no logical reason for me to live. I can’t make a meaningful contribution. There is then no purpose for my life. It is logical to die and end the pain. In a severely triggered state, I curl up on the bed until I can function again. He is my brother, but he channels through his genetics my father. When I was little, I was told often that I am just a girl, women were inferior. My God, My God, Why have you forsaken me? Why did you make me a woman? Kill me! Take me now! Before I change my mind….