This is my first post here, and I prefer to make it my last.
I'm going to vent a lot here because I really need to let it all out.
I don't think I would ever CTB, but it's basically the only thing keeping me together these days.
The idea that there is always a way out or light at the end of the tunnel is comforting, and sometimes I believe it's what I deserve.
You see, I've always been the least social of my family. I was the second child, the middle child. My brother was always the most popular, and my little brother is the spitting image of what I wanted to be.
I've always been shy and not very social.
I am weird and like to do things in weird ways.
Whenever I'm laughing, it doesn't seem genuine, like I have to force it.
I've always been bullied (mostly for my name).
I've never had many friends. Each time my family moved, I would always have between 0–2 friends.
Some were good, some were not, but they always came and went.
Sometimes it was my fault.Sometimes it was not.Sometimes they would kick my ass and then film me.
Whenever a family event or party is happening, I tend to want to stay in the background.
My mother thinks I'm just shy or unsure, but no, I prefer it that way.
I don't like being the center of attention. I just want to be me whenever I want to be.
That thing has become harder since I grew so much.
I don't like being tall.I wish I wasn't born this way.
When I entered college and left puberty,
I met some amazing people, actual friends I could relate with, people I genuinely liked being around. For some of the time, I think my smile was real, but then I realized:
Such happiness doesn't last.I am and always will be faking everything I do.
I am a horrible piece of shit, spoiled beyond belief.
No sane or normal person would ever confess to their own loving mother that they are unhappy and are willing to end it.
Yet I did.
No sane person would ever do the same to their little brother.
Yet I did.
I don't know anymore.I am confused, and maybe I was influenced by things on my phone to feel this way, yet...
All of my horrible life experiences are still real. The horrible person I am is still me.
And honestly, I don't care if there is a hell or a heaven. I want these horrible thoughts to end. All I can think about is how the world would be a better place without me and that my family would, without a doubt, be happier with me gone. It would all be so simple.
If there is a God, I spit in your face.
I'm sorry, but I can't handle it. I probably will not attempt any time soon.
But the thought makes me happy. There is a comfort in oblivion.
I'm going to vent a lot here because I really need to let it all out.
I don't think I would ever CTB, but it's basically the only thing keeping me together these days.
The idea that there is always a way out or light at the end of the tunnel is comforting, and sometimes I believe it's what I deserve.
You see, I've always been the least social of my family. I was the second child, the middle child. My brother was always the most popular, and my little brother is the spitting image of what I wanted to be.
I've always been shy and not very social.
I am weird and like to do things in weird ways.
Whenever I'm laughing, it doesn't seem genuine, like I have to force it.
I've always been bullied (mostly for my name).
I've never had many friends. Each time my family moved, I would always have between 0–2 friends.
Some were good, some were not, but they always came and went.
Sometimes it was my fault.Sometimes it was not.Sometimes they would kick my ass and then film me.
Whenever a family event or party is happening, I tend to want to stay in the background.
My mother thinks I'm just shy or unsure, but no, I prefer it that way.
I don't like being the center of attention. I just want to be me whenever I want to be.
That thing has become harder since I grew so much.
I don't like being tall.I wish I wasn't born this way.
When I entered college and left puberty,
I met some amazing people, actual friends I could relate with, people I genuinely liked being around. For some of the time, I think my smile was real, but then I realized:
Such happiness doesn't last.I am and always will be faking everything I do.
I am a horrible piece of shit, spoiled beyond belief.
No sane or normal person would ever confess to their own loving mother that they are unhappy and are willing to end it.
Yet I did.
No sane person would ever do the same to their little brother.
Yet I did.
I don't know anymore.I am confused, and maybe I was influenced by things on my phone to feel this way, yet...
All of my horrible life experiences are still real. The horrible person I am is still me.
And honestly, I don't care if there is a hell or a heaven. I want these horrible thoughts to end. All I can think about is how the world would be a better place without me and that my family would, without a doubt, be happier with me gone. It would all be so simple.
If there is a God, I spit in your face.
I'm sorry, but I can't handle it. I probably will not attempt any time soon.
But the thought makes me happy. There is a comfort in oblivion.
