I am new to this site and this is my very first time putting anything personal online. I am hoping to find people that might sort of, a little bit, understand here. I was the result of a failed abortion. My dad only wanted me if I was a boy to follow in his footsteps as a science professor at university. I was not. He was a drunk and beat me without mercy and tried his best to kill me. My mom tried to get me to kill myself and did all the mental abuse. When I was 6 she locked me in a cupboard with a large knife and no food or water. It was clear what I was meant to do. When I managed to get out 3 days later my dad beat me severely for peeing on some towels. My one purpose in life as a child was to die. I have two sisters only a few months more than a year apart. I came several years later. They were golden kids. I was just garbage to be dumped. There was no relief, not even at Christmas. My only source of very short reprieves was the times I came home with 100% and bonus marks in all my classes. It kept me from death. I started drinking and cutting myself at 6. At 9 I was using opioids and narcotics and carrying a gun to school. At 10 I was on the streets and made my way as a sex trade worker, crazy person, drunk, drug addict, and criminal. Abuse, trauma, violence, mental suffering kept on going all my life. I have seen horrors. People I cared about died in violent ways. I held a loved one in my harms, dieing, after she was tortured and I sent her to peace with an overdose of heroin, dug a grave with ny bare hands, and buried her in a nearby park. I have killed people in the war of survival. I have lost track of all the bodies I disposed of. I have locked away some of the things I've seen, experienced, done because I'm not capable of holding them in my awareness. Nearly all my life I have been either homeless, in psych wards, in prison, or in an institution. Nowhere was there any comfort given. Many of the institutions I was kept sometimes for more than a year naked, alone in a cement box with no windows, no mattress or blanket. A light was on 24/7. What little food and water that was given came only once every few days. The toilet was a bucket. No one has ever understood me. I learned to be incapable of loving, being loved, incapable of feeling pain or hunger or thirst or cold. I was done with this world before I was born. To CTB is the only thing I ever wanted in life. I have tried my darnedest more than a hundred times and failed. Failing to CTB is my biggest shame and guilt. But I might have found a way to succeed this time. I really hope this time I reach final peace.
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