Time to die

When I was 3, my father told me that I was the cause of all that was wrong in his life. It was my fault he was stuck married, and that we were poor, and so on.

He told me this often.

From as far back as I can remember, my mother was extremely violent. Beatings until blood flowed, black eyes, and so on. When she was done, she would lock me in the closet. Sometimes for days.

When she came to let me out, the sexual abuse was next.

Both parents were violent, but mom was the worst. My only way to deal was to black it all out. Completely. It never happened.

Until in my mid 30s it suddenly came back. All or it. Not just what was done to me, but what I did as well. My 4 younger siblings were my responsibility, and I was almost as bad as my mother. I beat and tortoured them. I raped my littlest sister. I was, and am, a completely horrible person.

My shrink says this is understandable, given how I was treated. But I don’t really believe that.

I hate myself. Just a horrible, deformed, piece of human shit that deserves nothing but death.

So, I’m going to take a massive overdose of insulin, and swallow a good handful of methadone. That should do just fine.

At last it will all be over, and I can rot in hell for all eternity.