Suicide year 2014

  March 3rd, 2018 by Urm8451n

It is 2014, I’m young.
Have yet understood why my I can’t understand other’s feelings.
Mom is breaking down, she is alone, she is going through courts and she is under a lot of stress.
Knowing things can get out of hand at any moment, I don’t sleep.
Not even blinking.

My head is on the pillow, but my ears are searching all over the place. I clearly hear the neighbor’s dog, the child across the street, the moving cars, and how many there are.

The following days, mom starts acting weird, just like in those horror movies where the demon is taking over. She yells, and kicks, and make hate speeches. I’m enclosed in myself, time to lock up my mind, can’t let those experience move any further to my consciousness.

A sum of time later, felt like minutes, but the sun is half down. Mom locked me outside, she pops up her meds. She goes for the shot, she wants out, SHE WANTS OUT.

Out of where? I begin thinking, maybe…. Just maybe I fucked it all up. Maybe it is my fault.
I… I’m feeling like I shouldn’t have been born at the first place. Is it me? I’m the bomb that was there all along?

I didn’t even enjoy my life so far, just feeling like a waste… a waste of money, energy, even waste of water and food.

Me and big bro breaks into the house, she looks terrible. She is drugged. She is completely od-ed.

“Would she go through it? What am I suppose to do?” my inner voice gets louder and louder.
From one side, calling authorities would get her arrested and we will lose our house due to debts and divorce agreement from current husband of mom’s.

From the other, she is almost dead.

That day she survived.

But my soul didn’t. Since that day, my mental status never recovered. In the past it wasn’t even in mid condition, I was cracked. No father, single mother, no money, no toys, no food…..
Fucked up mom’s BF(S), which acts like they own me as a slave. Fuck it, FUCK IT. FUCK IT.

At around nine years old I began to find joy in hurting people/animals. I couldn’t understand feelings, I just couldn’t understand what are people doing. Why are they crying, what is this “love” they are feeling?

I don’t think I am an ideal psychopath, but I’m defiantly close to the ideal state. I feel nothing beside simple emotions.

I feel alone. Like an alien. I know how to connect to people, I know how to hear all there private stories. I know what to say and act. I know how to get closer and closer, and get into relationships.

Right now I’m in a relationship with a girl. She likes me a-lot. How can I tell her I don’t feel too much? I like her, because it is easy I have something. But there are no other emotions, and it is not because of her, but because of the lack of feelings.   I can’t. I make her feel special, and for that, I’m “happy”.  Because I’m doing something good for the world.

I had a dream, I had a dream where I would feel, where I would find a reason, but it is all fading away. Reality hits, and , oh boy, you just can’t re format that fucked up brain.

Since 2014, things changed, mainly me, I became a man, muscular, with a smile. Self esteem went up since I had time to accomplish realizing what is up with me. But also other shit happened. Mom tried again, and we had hard times getting somewhere. I believe she isn’t that sane, she shows signs of ….. BPD. But I don’t care.  I lost touch with reality few times. I started showing PTSD signs, and having paranoid thoughts about people talking about me/planning otherwise. I started wondering if there are others like me, and I tried, really tried to identify them. Those people who say one thing but totally mean the other. Those people who would act in a way, but they already know what moves will happen.

Hope it helped you knowing my experience (some of it).

Anyhow, I’m going to finish this post here.

Stay strong, be brave, Yours Jac.

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