#my perfect pessimist idiot. in my heart of hearts he gets a therapist moves and actually recovers

[a-lil-strawberry]

I’m just gonna let it all fucking out. I’m just gonna say it with all the swear words I want too because I can’t hold back this time.

I was sexually abused by my best friend when I was really young, so young that these are some of my first memories. Every time I went to her house, she would force me to kiss her because we were “practicing”. I would scream and cry whenever my mom said that I had to go sleep over at her house because I didn’t want to fucking be touched by her. I brushed it off for a long time, because I thought “it’s only kissing” and she remains my friend to this day and has been my best friend at times. I wasn’t brushing it off through. I was suppressing it. I didn’t give it credit for the pain it has caused me until recently. 

I believe this, what happened with my friend, is a big reason why I now struggle with same sex attraction. 

When I was 8, my dad left us. The leaving hurt but the coming back hurt more. He’s abusive in every way other than physical and sexual. He’s manipulative, controlling, verbally abusive, neglectful... All he ever does is work, go to the fucking Eagle’s club, and sit and watch tv. He never does anything with us, and he’s far past the point of any of us wanting to do anything with him anymore. 

I’m freaking terrified of becoming like him and hurting people like he’s hurt us. No one should be afraid to become like their father.

I’ve never been afraid of death. When I was really young, I would say to my mom “I can’t wait to die”, because I knew I’d go to heaven. So imagine this; today, I have lost all hope for the future, I feel utterly alone in the deepest of ways, I feel so much pain and darkness my back is about to break from it, and I’ve been wanting to die since I was little. Every single freaking day I think about swallowing a whole bottle of pills, laying down on a train track, shooting myself, slitting my wrists, or anything that will do the job. Every single day I’m alive it’s a freaking feat. 

I’m terrified of disobeying God and falling short, and I obviously disobey God every single day and I don’t even fall short - I was never in any place to fall from in the first place. So when I think about this, I think about God’s grace and I think, ‘well, it’s okay’, then I think, ‘I’m abusing grace, this isn’t what it’s supposed to be like, I’m disobeying God more’. Because I can’t do it. I can’t be what God wants me to be while I’m on this earth. I know that in heaven, I’ll be perfect, and so there’s another reason why I want to die. There won’t be anymore battle for me. I’ll just be done. But then what about the Revelation? What if I won’t be done? I’m just so far from feeling peaceful. And I don’t want to mess things up with God, or sin, or think the wrong thing. I want God to just come and take me in His arms and take me far away from this body and this earth and just hold me in His arms and never let go. 

I’m homeschooled. I have been my whole life. When I was in sixth grade, I became independent from my mom and did my work on my own. I would get confused about the math, and so I’d set it aside until I could get my mom to help me. I would ask her, and she would say she’d help me later, then it just... wouldn’t happen. Ever. Yeah. I’ve been stuck in math in the same fucking place I was in sixth grade. I’m a sophomore. I don’t know a single thing about math above that level, besides some pre-algebra that I worked really fucking hard on. My mom just doesn’t fucking know how bad it is and she never checked up on me or helped me. Whenever I try to catch up I just get so overwhelmed and cry. Whenever anyone talks about math and jokes about how hard it is for them I just feel like screaming “at least you fucking had someone to teach you it and you’re at the grade level with it that you’re supposed to be”. So when I think about college, I can’t, because I’d have to get through my general education course of math and there’s no fucking way. 

For the past two years I haven’t been able to do much school at all in general because whenever I try I just can’t concentrate. My therapist says that my brain literally recognizes it as a dangerous situation (at least I think she said that, I don’t know, I can’t remember anything anymore).

When I was young, I don’t remember how old I was, years ages and numbers I’m never sure of, I watched my sister have sex when I was home alone with her. I cried all day because I knew she wasn’t perfect, but that just broke my heart because I always held purity so high. 

I had to watch that same sister go through severe depression and suicidal ideation, but I was too young to understand. Now I do. Now I’m going through the same thing. 

When my dad left and sometime before that, I had a friend named Sam. He was my first crush and my best friend. He got me through that awful, terrible time. I was so obsessed with him. I thought he was obsessed with me too. Anyway, he had to move away, and it hurt a thousand times worse than my dad leaving because it actually felt like Sam loved me. I’m moved on from him, but whenever I felt really ugly or like no one would love me ever, I would think of Sam and think “well at least he loved me; someone else will” but something that he said recently made me think he never really did love me and it was all in my head... 

My sister is engaged to a dumb piece of crap who is exactly like my dad, and she’s becoming just like them now too.

My favorite dog died last year. 

There was another Sam, and I had a huge crush on him, and I thought God had told me that I was supposed to ‘be with him’, so I practically tortured myself for a year thinking like an a woman who was arranged to marry someone she doesn’t even know because I didn’t even fucking know him; I had a fucking crush on who I imagined him to be. I didn’t even like him. but then still he broke my fucking heart when he made it painfully clear to everyone he was madly in love with another girl. I don’t even know what to think about that whole situation anymore, all I know is I hope I never marry him and I hope I heard God wrong. Whole fucking waste of a year of my life.

I stopped painting. I had an art teacher that absolutely hated me, and one time he literally picked up my paint brush and painted. on. my. fucking. canvas. After that I slowly trickled out... and eventually stopped. The only thing I draw now is something that only I can know about, but I must draw it. Even when I draw that I still fucking hate it. 

I stopped writing. I still get ideas for stories, but when I sit down to write them out, my brain literally goes blank and I know it’s the fucking depression.

The thing is... I’m so used to darkness, I’m terrified of getting out of it. I fucking enjoy sin and darkness and that’s what makes me want to tear my fucking soul from this fucking body the most. I’m so fucking done with this stupid battle. 

I’ve lost all hope, I don’t feel my purpose, I feel alone, I’m hurting too much for me to handle - I’m literally a poster girl for someone with the signs of suicide. Someone give me a fucking award, I got a 100% on the “How Suicidal Are You” pop quiz.

Lord Jesus, I just want to die. Please just end all this.

When you say things like “chin up, it’ll get better”, do you understand now why that feels so fucking idiotic? What’s to get better? What is better? What does “better” even fucking mean? Nothing to me. I might just be hyper pessimistic right now but that’s kinda a side effect of having major depressive disorder and generalized anxiety and having all this crap happen to you.

I’ve had enough. I’m done. I’d like to go home now.