Anyone who reads my blogs knows my posts are often negative with a smidge of positivity at the end – like a little light at the end of the tunnel.
But I don’t see that light anymore.
Tonight I took an overdose & as a follow up to that my Mum stated I manipulate her.. which all in all made me feel like I am just like those that abused me.
(Like you saying you aren’t coming to the hospital with me isn’t an attempt to manipulate me)
I already felt like one of them because of my traits, personality & self harm mechanisms. I already relate to them. Why do you think I despise myself so much?
Every inch of my being I just want to rip off my bones.
So to make that feeling better.. you suggest I mentally abuse you. I manipulate you.
So I guess that proves I’m right. I am as bad as them.
I am a product of their creation.
The only thing keeping me on this Earth was the off chance that maybe I am a decent human being. Maybe I didn’t deserve this. Maybe I’ll have my happily ever after.
But I despise them.
& if I’m even a quarter of the people they are then I do not want to be on this planet.
I do not want to hurt others the way they hurt me. Damage others the way they damaged me.
This wasn’t even the reason for the overdose; purely the aftermath.
The reason for the overdose is that I am stuck. I am stuck in this never ending hell, with a cinema in my mind replaying the images, the sound effects, the horror scenes on an hourly loop.
The thing is, nobody even realises. Nobody even notices when the image of a mans genitals, a man closer to me than anyone would think, flashes up in my mind. When the sounds of dirty laughter and pride echoes in my ears. When the moment they took away every part of me that felt joy and laughter and dignity and innocence and human, torn from my very soul, sends overwhelming feelings of emptiness, fear and despair through my whole body.
Yet when I do something out of character or when I try to hurt myself or even end my life… people get angry. They make it out as though I’m trying to hurt them. They make it out as though I am just like the man that abused me.
I’d like you to spend one second in the shoes of someone that has to envisage all of those scenes and hundreds more, of the one man in the world they have always yearned for and loved unconditionally.
Because those are the shoes I wear every day.
I don’t know if there’s a future for me anymore.
It’s true that you’re alone in this world.
But I don’t like being alone.
I was alone my whole childhood.
I guess I have to work out if I’m strong enough to keep fighting this. If I’m strong enough to face it all on my own. Because I can’t talk to anyone now.
An Impartial Soul xo