God damnit fuck me

I tried again to commit suicide And it didn’t work. I was so doped up I slept for days and was unable to walk or talk when I woke up. I went into the middle of the mountains, out of sight and away from everyone and everything. I swallowed a ton of sleeping pills and I fucking survived. Fuck me! what the hell! God damnit! I don’t want to do this anymore but I can’t seem to change anything. I can’t even commit suicide. I’m just forced to suffer through because that’s all I can do. This is so fucking frustrating. I don’t feel much besides hurt anger and frustration that I can’t do anything about which just circles back around or I’m numb. All I see is how hard it is just to get through a normal day. everything everyone else just strolls through la de da. So I’m forced to pretend to be ok, play at being normal, and coast doing what I have to so things don’t get harder for me. I try here and there when I can But the feeling has been gone a long time now. I don’t want to believe I don’t want to look at a parent playing with a child and feel good because of the sight of it I don’t want to see a good deed done and nearly cry for the sight of it because it hurts to see. I don’t want to laugh or cry or be angry afraid frustrated anymore. I don’t want to remember that I was raped or the hurt and anger I feel. I don’t want to remember what it was like when that rape ripped open and held open my eyes to see the world full of evils people do to each other. it was like being forced to stare into hell as a child and cry and be afraid with the site of everyone there after going through it. knowing in a way im still there. I don’t want to be this person who can’t hardly speak up let alone demand the respect everyone deserves I don’t want to be a straight up ***** who can’t show anger deck someone or fight my way out of a paper sack I don’t want to know the innocence I feel like I have to cling to because letting go of it means facing my screwed up reality of rape and missery. The reality that this world is so full of evil people. I cry for the child I still am inside. I want the child I am inside to die I want to stop pretending and dreaming and hoping. I don’t want to feel anything. I want to fucking die and get it over with! But now, for now, I’m ok again. The calm after the storm. That peaceful empty ok feeling even though you know you should be crying and screaming in anger fear and pain.