So.. this is it.
I guess this is what it took..
I guess everything’s just added up, and now I’m more certain than I’ve ever been that this is the right choice for me.
I’m so tired of everything.. and I feel that I can’t even explain what brought me to this point because I’m just too tired.
But it’s not fair.. if I just cease to exist without calling out all the wrongness in this world.
This.. fucked up.. life.. where nobody cares about the consequences of their actions.. where everyone lives for themselves and nobody bats an eye at those who are constantly victimized and harassed. Made to feel like worthless garbage. Why continue it?
I’ve been made into an outsider my entire life. But that’s not what really gets to me.
It’s the way people have hurt me that really makes me want to die. I’m tired of trying to seek justice for myself. The truth is that nobody cares. People do terrible things to me and to others and they get away with it. I am consumed with rage and I cannot do anything about it because I am a good person and I don’t want to spend my already miserable existence incarcerated.
The people who’ve hurt me decide to deny what they did, to claim innocence. I wouldn’t be here if they were innocent. I’d be in a much better place if those people hadn’t hurt me. Maybe I’d feel better if they were actually punished for what they did. Maybe some part of me would rest.
I’ve been abused my whole life. It’s been one thing after the other. My mother physically, emotionally, and sexually abused me from birth until I was about twelve. And then she continued to exist for the rest of my life, following me to places, harassing my friends, and then physically hurting me several times into adulthood. I have been living with her for the last six years, and during the last two I’ve often wanted to destroy every inch of her body with a knife. I’ve wanted to make her suffer for what she did to me, even though I know it will never be enough.
I can’t even talk about it or think about it too much, because I start to lose myself. I don’t want to go down that path right now.
But my mother wasn’t the only one who hurt me. After I was taken away from her, I lived with my father. He emotionally and verbally abused me, and at times physically hurt me. This was after my mental illness took over my life. At one point I started hearing voices in my head. They were just people in my mind. Different aspects of myself, all taking over at different times, making it seem like I never even lived.
I had a step mother and two sisters. Eventually they left, and it was just me and him. This is when things got worse with him. But that wasn’t all of it. I started high school. And people knew that they could take advantage of me. I was dissociated all the time, during class, outside of class. Everyone saw it. But I didn’t. I was lost in my head.
I was bullied all throughout my school years. In elementary school these girls tried to shove pencil shavings in my mouth. Another kid pushed me off the school bus. A girl took her scissors and put them in my desk and claimed that I stole them. In kindergarten I told my teacher that my dad had a gun and that guns killed people. It was because of my mother. She would often talk about getting a gun and killing people. She would show me her body parts. And so one day in kindergarten I flashed my body in front of my classmates.
In middle school I was assaulted by a girl who would often bully me. And then her best friend shoved me on the ground and dumped a can of soda on me.
In high school they made fun of me for cutting myself. They’d make cutting motions and laugh. I slept through my classes. I guess people talked about me. They all knew there was something wrong with me. Eventually I was molested by this guy named. He did it while I was dissociated, right outside my house during the day. Started touching me. My sisters were running around. I think maybe my subconscious took it in, and that’s why my name is. Now I get flashbacks to that moment. I see his face so clearly, just staring at me. No emotion. He told me he was a strategist.
But that’s not the end of it. There was this other guy. He found out that I liked our teacher, who was a woman. He told me that he would tell her unless I gave him a handjob. I’d never even touched a dick before. After that, my best friend went out with him, despite what he did to me.
One day I was cutting myself in the hallway. I had a hiding spot where I would go to be alone. This guy I knew, he saw me, told me, “you’re doing it wrong” and then cut me deeper than I’d ever cut myself. I was running down the hallway, blood everywhere. I got sent to the mental hospital.
Later on I had this boyfriend. He said, “I wonder how long it’ll take until I break you.”
Around 11th grade I had this other boyfriend. Eventually my dad left me alone, no supervision. He left the country, and so instead of skipping class, I just didn’t go to school. The boyfriend would stay over a lot. One day we had an argument and he choked me until I passed out. And still, I stayed with him. Later on, he started touching me while I was asleep. I would wake up and he would be touching me, sometimes fucking me. I just pretended to be asleep. But now I think about murdering him for what he did to me. I get flashbacks of what he did and I feel trapped in my body.
Then there was my last boyfriend. He would insist on things until I had no choice but to say yes. I didn’t realize it at the time, but he was taking advantage of me. My friends insisted that he was bad, but I wasn’t myself. I was a stupid ***** who decided to take over my life. It wasn’t even me. One day we were going to fuck and I wanted him to stop. I told him to stop over and over again, but he didn’t listen. He raped me in the ass. He didn’t even use lube. I just cried and let him do it. I just dissociated from myself and let it happen. It was probably the most painful thing I’ve ever experienced physically. Now I can’t think about it because I start to have flashbacks and I see his face and I feel miserable inside, like I’m worthless. I think about murdering him too.
But it wasn’t just sexual. And it wasn’t just people that I knew. Strangers hurt me too. A few years ago I was beat up by a group of people at the park. Nobody did anything about it. They got away.
A few days ago a man threw a beer bottle at me. I called the cops and they didn’t do anything.
Last night a drunk guy on the sidewalk hit me in the back of the head. I called the cops and they didn’t do anything. The guy got away. No punishment. I’m lucky I controlled myself. I was going to beat him up.
I had a stalker, too. A man twice my age. Would show up outside my house. Eventually he took advantage of me when I was dissociated, and I was a child. I become a child. Not anymore. I don’t become a child anymore because I am in control and becoming a child is dangerous. I don’t have memories of the time I spent around that man. Only a few glimpses. It terrifies me.
In college I told my professor that the rest of the group wasn’t doing their part on the assignment. One of the girls in the group threatened to hurt me, told me she’d do it outside of class when I’d least expect it. Told me she’d also shove a bottle of isopropyl down my throat. I told her I’d rip her face off. I thought about murdering her.
Besides the physical attacks, there were emotional attacks. People calling me crazy. One of my alternate personalities being autistic, there were some instances where these behaviors happened outside. People saw me and called me crazy, looked at me, harassed me. I was kicked off the train and walked for three hours to get home, I cried the whole way there.
There were probably over two dozen instances of being judged by strangers. But it wasn’t just that. I was also discriminated and lied to for a job. They told me I was hired, told me to send in some paperwork. I did, and then they ghosted me. Never contacted me again. I called and they ignored me.
Things happened at work, too. One coworker didn’t like me. So she decided to say something to me to purposefully trigger me. I lost my job.
And apart from all that, there’s all the times that people have purposefully swerved towards me on the road. Honked their cars at me, telling me to get off the road despite me being on a bike lane. I’ve gone on the sidewalk and had people tell me to get off the sidewalk and get on the road. I get on the road and I’m almost killed every day. I’ve had people purposefully accelerate towards me as if they were going to run me over, and I’ve had them do it from behind me and from in front of me. These people all got away with it. So did the six people who actually hit me with their cars. They all got away with it.
But that’s not all. I’ve also experienced theft. I’ve had my phone stolen twice, and I’ve had about six bikes stolen. I make less than $7,000 a year. My entire income comes from my bike, and I have less than $80 on me at any given time. Having my bike stolen is the same as having my car stolen. And they don’t care. They don’t give a fuck about me. They don’t see me as human. I wanted to kill all of them, and yet I had no way to do it. I guess I’m lucky that I didn’t.
To add to all of that, there was the constant sexual harassment. Every day of my life, a constant harassment by men on the street. Every time it would happen I wanted to destroy each and every one of them. I imagined myself killing all the men who would say things to me on the street. It wasn’t just out in the neighborhood. It was also my neighbors. One old man asked me to come to his apartment for drinks. He would actively stare at my ass every time he saw me. He wasn’t even hiding it. I wanted to murder him.
Besides this, there has been the discrimination due to my past mental health and my gender identity. I mean, as if all of that stuff isn’t enough, I’m also subject to more bullshit. Discrimination because of my mental health at the hospital, at my doctor’s appointments, by the police, by rescue workers after being hit by a car. Being treated as less than human at the hospital to the point that they ignored my health complaints, this resulting in a full body reaction to a medication they had given me. Ignoring my complaints which could’ve prevented the reaction in the first place. Being ignored at the hospital just because I’ve attempted suicide. Because they see you as insane. Because once they see you as insane there’s no going back. They label you, judge you, make you into something less than human, and give you no choice but to accept it.
Why should I have to feel this way? I ask myself, am I just going to take it? Am I just going to kill myself and let them all win? What’s the alternative? I can’t get the justice that I deserve. There is no way to make things right. Things will never be right. And for as long as I’m alive, I will continue to be victimized. This is why I need to finally do it. Finally kill myself. I’ve been thinking about it for so long. I’ve planned it for so long. The easiest way to do it. It won’t even hurt. I’ll have everything ready. I even know exactly where I’ll do it. There’s this bench on an island, there’s a view of the ocean. Me and my old friend called it “the end spot” because it’s at the end of a walking path. That’s where I’ve always thought about doing it. That’s where I’ll do it. I don’t need to live like this anymore. There’s no reason to keep suffering. I don’t want to exist. I don’t need to exist. I don’t need to be abused anymore. Ever. I’m glad I finally realized this. I feel so free.