I’m about done with life right now. Done with being used sexually, emotionally, and financially. My current husband doesn’t seem to understand the word no. So I end up with bruises or traumatized. The other day I had to wear long sleeves because there was a bruise hand print on my lower arm. I had agreed to a little sex earlier in the day for that evening but just wasn’t up to it come night. I fell asleep and next thing I know he was not listening to me. I kept saying “I don’t want to, just let me go back to sleep”. In the end I gave him what he wanted and went back to sleep. I can’t live like this anymore. There isn’t any added value.
I know all the arguments. Do this, do that. Why didn’t you press charge, why are you so weak. I’m weak. I know this. This morning I woke up and life seemed pointless. I’m back on psyc meds just to keep my shit together for my kids, who need me. This is no time to explode our lives.
Everything is just going south. The job I love has become toxic, it was my refuge. It no longer is. I’m job searching but we all know with all the folks out of work I should be realistic.
This morning I considered going and buying a gun, driving to a State Park, getting out of the car, hiking in 10 miles and just sticking the gun in my mouth. Easy peasy. Which is why I don’t own a gun.
My brother has unloaded all his childhood trauma memories on me in the past month, he needed release. I had reinvented my childhood so most of what he told me was brand new to me. Guess I had it worse than I thought, or remembered. At least I have a good reason for my psychiatric issues, right? so there is my silver lining. Kind of puts all the pieces together for me too. My shitty record with men, my inability to connect with important people who love me. My fear of the weirdest things. All my crazy bathroom habits.
Well if you got this far, congrats. You are better than me, I would have checked out at childhood sexual trauma because I just don’t want to remember being repeatedly raped at age 6 and 12 by my own father. But thank you dear brother for telling me how you tried to keep me safe by locking me in your room with me at night. At least I got a few nights off. Not one adult intervened. No One. Only my 8 year old brother who was 4 years older than me, doing his best to save his sister, having gone through similar things at age 4.
So I’m debating the added value of what 10 or 20 more years in this world would hold. I mean is there added value? For you dear reader, I’m sure you could think of dozens for me. For me though? I’m living this, so at this point I’m not so sure. Death would be so peaceful.
Find where kindness resides, then build your home there.