Rant: This past week
(WARNING: Potentially triggering content, strong language)
I've fucking had it. I can't take it any fucking more. Last Friday, I completely lost the ability to cope with my parents abuse. I had an hour-long mental breakdown at my library job that day along with a panic attack. I could not handle it whatsoever, and it never got better. Over the weekend I had several breakdowns and near-breakdowns. Then Monday came around. It was about 8 AM and I was at the library in the children's area shelving children's chapter books, then an urge I had only ever felt once and that one time it hadn't been all that bad so I didn't do it happened. The urge to self-harm. Previously, the only urge I had ever felt was to kill myself, and for the most part, I've learned to cope with that. This is a different urge. And it was really, really, strong, like, uncontrollably strong. So, I harmed myself right there and then. After I finished, I collapsed. Everyone was up at the front of the library, so no one saw me on the floor crying my eyes out. It took several hours to recover from the harm. On Tuesday I had the same urge, but it wasn't as bad, so I kept myself from harming myself, but barely.
Today, Wednesday, I've had the same urge plus the urge to kill myself, often at the same time. Thankfully, for the majority of the day I've ever been talking to people since I worked both of my jobs (library and at the Salvation Army Thrift Store), or was listening to something. When I wasn't though, I was thinking about harming and/or killing myself. At my Salvation Army job, the last of the two jobs for the day, I was so depressed that one of my co-workers pulled me aside in the parking lot after the store closed and we were leaving to ask if I was ok. I pretty much poured out my soul to her, but kept a lot back as well, but told her a lot. It really brought even more emotion to the surface, and as I started driving the mental breakdown began. I screamed, a primal, top-of-your-lungs, every ounce of energy I had, scream. I gave it my all, and kept screaming for several minutes. Heck, I still want to scream right now and cried so hard (which I also want to do right now). The abuse is too much. I don't know how to cope anymore. All my unhealthy coping mechanisms are failing me. I am in so much mental, emotional, and physical pain right now because of their abuse and my inability to cope with it. I'm so tired. I'm so tired of it all, the abuse, being trans, living. The abuse is too much. My dysphoria is too much to handle. I'm tired of living. What do I have to live for? I have no family that cares about me, I have no friends. I'm the awkward, immature, annoying kid nobody likes. I hate myself so much. No one would legitimately care if I died. They might be sad for a few days, but they'd move on. No one actually cares, in fact, it'd probably be better if I did, there'd be less pain for them. Most people I know literally hate LGBT people, and so me trans only brings pain, one that lasts a lifetime. If I killed myself the pain would soon be over as they don't actually care. Fuck it. Just fuck it. I'm done. I'm so tired. I just want relief. I want to be in Jesus' arms. I want to feel love for once. I just want to be loved. Is that really too much? Is it really too much to ask to be loved by your family? To even be base-level cared about even? WHY? WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE? WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE A FUCKING LUXURY? A luxury I can't afford. I want love. I want to be in Heaven where I am around those who love and care about me. What's the point of living here? There's nothing for me. I have no dreams. No friends. No true family. Only a faith I'm barely holding onto. Only a blog that I suck at running. A Discord server I suck at running. Crappy social media accounts that lose followers faster than water in a strainer, if they had any to begin with. What do I have to live for? I wish I knew, if I had anything. I just wish I had a legit reason to live, but everytime I try to come up with something, I come up with nothing. Why did God allow this to happen to me? Why does my life have to be a fucking nightmare? One that's so horrible that I've literally had to block like 99% of it out of my memories just to sorta, kinda, but not really, cope. Why is life so horrible?
I've fucking had it. I can't take it any fucking more. Last Friday, I completely lost the ability to cope with my parents abuse. I had an hour-long mental breakdown at my library job that day along with a panic attack. I could not handle it whatsoever, and it never got better. Over the weekend I had several breakdowns and near-breakdowns. Then Monday came around. It was about 8 AM and I was at the library in the children's area shelving children's chapter books, then an urge I had only ever felt once and that one time it hadn't been all that bad so I didn't do it happened. The urge to self-harm. Previously, the only urge I had ever felt was to kill myself, and for the most part, I've learned to cope with that. This is a different urge. And it was really, really, strong, like, uncontrollably strong. So, I harmed myself right there and then. After I finished, I collapsed. Everyone was up at the front of the library, so no one saw me on the floor crying my eyes out. It took several hours to recover from the harm. On Tuesday I had the same urge, but it wasn't as bad, so I kept myself from harming myself, but barely.
Today, Wednesday, I've had the same urge plus the urge to kill myself, often at the same time. Thankfully, for the majority of the day I've ever been talking to people since I worked both of my jobs (library and at the Salvation Army Thrift Store), or was listening to something. When I wasn't though, I was thinking about harming and/or killing myself. At my Salvation Army job, the last of the two jobs for the day, I was so depressed that one of my co-workers pulled me aside in the parking lot after the store closed and we were leaving to ask if I was ok. I pretty much poured out my soul to her, but kept a lot back as well, but told her a lot. It really brought even more emotion to the surface, and as I started driving the mental breakdown began. I screamed, a primal, top-of-your-lungs, every ounce of energy I had, scream. I gave it my all, and kept screaming for several minutes. Heck, I still want to scream right now and cried so hard (which I also want to do right now). The abuse is too much. I don't know how to cope anymore. All my unhealthy coping mechanisms are failing me. I am in so much mental, emotional, and physical pain right now because of their abuse and my inability to cope with it. I'm so tired. I'm so tired of it all, the abuse, being trans, living. The abuse is too much. My dysphoria is too much to handle. I'm tired of living. What do I have to live for? I have no family that cares about me, I have no friends. I'm the awkward, immature, annoying kid nobody likes. I hate myself so much. No one would legitimately care if I died. They might be sad for a few days, but they'd move on. No one actually cares, in fact, it'd probably be better if I did, there'd be less pain for them. Most people I know literally hate LGBT people, and so me trans only brings pain, one that lasts a lifetime. If I killed myself the pain would soon be over as they don't actually care. Fuck it. Just fuck it. I'm done. I'm so tired. I just want relief. I want to be in Jesus' arms. I want to feel love for once. I just want to be loved. Is that really too much? Is it really too much to ask to be loved by your family? To even be base-level cared about even? WHY? WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE? WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE A FUCKING LUXURY? A luxury I can't afford. I want love. I want to be in Heaven where I am around those who love and care about me. What's the point of living here? There's nothing for me. I have no dreams. No friends. No true family. Only a faith I'm barely holding onto. Only a blog that I suck at running. A Discord server I suck at running. Crappy social media accounts that lose followers faster than water in a strainer, if they had any to begin with. What do I have to live for? I wish I knew, if I had anything. I just wish I had a legit reason to live, but everytime I try to come up with something, I come up with nothing. Why did God allow this to happen to me? Why does my life have to be a fucking nightmare? One that's so horrible that I've literally had to block like 99% of it out of my memories just to sorta, kinda, but not really, cope. Why is life so horrible?
Comments
Post a Comment
No porn or cussing. Any comments made with the intent to harm others will be deleted as well. I have no problem with comments disagreeing with me, but the comments must be respectful. (That goes for comments agreeing with me as well)