That's how I've heard myself (and others like me) described by healthcare. I found that validating to hear but in the long term having one aspect of my lifelong suffering noticed doesn't solve the overall issue of that suffering.
Anyway, yesterday I watched a TV show about an abusive person who has manipulated roughly a dozen over the past twenty years, taken money to the tune of a half million dollars combined. At first I was disconnected and at one point when the host had set up a meeting at a restaurant between them and he stood her up I thought "damn why do you want to talk to him again just keep suing him and fuck that guy"
I think she was asking too much of the world but the guy didn't even show up to any of the court dates. She put all the effort in gathering other victims and learning their stories and at the end he just wrote a cheque to her from hundreds of miles away and remained fucked off.
The judge said "I understand you have a victim impact statement you wish to read" and she's like
"yea"
She read it to the courtroom but nobody in that room really cared about what happened to her and her abuser is in another state and all the victims get is to share the price he payed for this car he stole.
And there it is, I went from being aloof to absolutely crumbling to the floor, I'm still broken over it and it's exhausting! I just wanted to watch TV and I've been in tears for twelve hours minus the respite of sleep during which all my own trauma came back and danced around my skull like some macabre circus
I am so beyond exhausted, and understanding why life is so tiring hasn't helped me suffer less. Rather it's helped me understand that there actually is no hope for me outside of an actively supportive environment and like folks, we live amongst a species of predators. I'm not finding a supporting fucking environment. What a joke.
I have about a month in this place before I get shoved off to another family member because I exploded on my BIL when he's "taken me in" as I asked my sister for help and she said sure there's a place for you
But I wasn't able to take the streets out of my blood fast enough. This story doesn't matter. It's long. I stole his change money and insulted his manhood and everything else he's got to say about himself. I think he's a pathetically insecure loser and I think that because he's emotionally abusing my sister. He has two kids with her. They're flying monkeys lol. One day they'll figure out but damn imagine being raised by a gaslighting narcissist. They are fucked.
And I'm fucked too because I am an addict, a behaviourally troubled loser, an out of control destructive cyst buried in the skin of society.
The more I examine my situation the more I think I've been manipulated and deliberately stressed out in order to produce poor coping mechanisms and justify pushing me out so that my sister will remain socially isolated and my BIL will continue his abuse unhindered
The more I examine my own personality and choices, yeah it's all my fault and also I've got lots of psychological and physical shit going against me, health issues, behavioural issues, like I don't like taking advantage and manipulating others and also I've never felt safe amongst these apes in my whole fucking life. Not once. So tell me I'm not supposed to live in survival mode. They wanna kill me. They'd murder me if I was honest about myself from bottom to top. I'd get slaughtered faster than an outed transgender person. Some of you here would tell me to fuck off and die lol.
The irony.
Anyway I started writing this because I touched something emotional and it burned, like pouring hydrogen peroxide into an open wound and watching the grief bubble up out of my flesh. I hate this life. I hate living in so much pain. I hate the lack of security and always wondering if I've said too much. I hate my cowardice and the fact that I might live til I'm 40 because I can't even trust myself having the nerve to actually die. All the self injury, bleeding, high risk behaviours and near death experiences are just a prayer that hasn't been answered. God help me.
Anyway, yesterday I watched a TV show about an abusive person who has manipulated roughly a dozen over the past twenty years, taken money to the tune of a half million dollars combined. At first I was disconnected and at one point when the host had set up a meeting at a restaurant between them and he stood her up I thought "damn why do you want to talk to him again just keep suing him and fuck that guy"
I think she was asking too much of the world but the guy didn't even show up to any of the court dates. She put all the effort in gathering other victims and learning their stories and at the end he just wrote a cheque to her from hundreds of miles away and remained fucked off.
The judge said "I understand you have a victim impact statement you wish to read" and she's like
"yea"
She read it to the courtroom but nobody in that room really cared about what happened to her and her abuser is in another state and all the victims get is to share the price he payed for this car he stole.
And there it is, I went from being aloof to absolutely crumbling to the floor, I'm still broken over it and it's exhausting! I just wanted to watch TV and I've been in tears for twelve hours minus the respite of sleep during which all my own trauma came back and danced around my skull like some macabre circus
I am so beyond exhausted, and understanding why life is so tiring hasn't helped me suffer less. Rather it's helped me understand that there actually is no hope for me outside of an actively supportive environment and like folks, we live amongst a species of predators. I'm not finding a supporting fucking environment. What a joke.
I have about a month in this place before I get shoved off to another family member because I exploded on my BIL when he's "taken me in" as I asked my sister for help and she said sure there's a place for you
But I wasn't able to take the streets out of my blood fast enough. This story doesn't matter. It's long. I stole his change money and insulted his manhood and everything else he's got to say about himself. I think he's a pathetically insecure loser and I think that because he's emotionally abusing my sister. He has two kids with her. They're flying monkeys lol. One day they'll figure out but damn imagine being raised by a gaslighting narcissist. They are fucked.
And I'm fucked too because I am an addict, a behaviourally troubled loser, an out of control destructive cyst buried in the skin of society.
The more I examine my situation the more I think I've been manipulated and deliberately stressed out in order to produce poor coping mechanisms and justify pushing me out so that my sister will remain socially isolated and my BIL will continue his abuse unhindered
The more I examine my own personality and choices, yeah it's all my fault and also I've got lots of psychological and physical shit going against me, health issues, behavioural issues, like I don't like taking advantage and manipulating others and also I've never felt safe amongst these apes in my whole fucking life. Not once. So tell me I'm not supposed to live in survival mode. They wanna kill me. They'd murder me if I was honest about myself from bottom to top. I'd get slaughtered faster than an outed transgender person. Some of you here would tell me to fuck off and die lol.
The irony.
Anyway I started writing this because I touched something emotional and it burned, like pouring hydrogen peroxide into an open wound and watching the grief bubble up out of my flesh. I hate this life. I hate living in so much pain. I hate the lack of security and always wondering if I've said too much. I hate my cowardice and the fact that I might live til I'm 40 because I can't even trust myself having the nerve to actually die. All the self injury, bleeding, high risk behaviours and near death experiences are just a prayer that hasn't been answered. God help me.
