Kariope
Student
- Feb 9, 2023
- 111
Hey. I never got to posting here about the reason that makes me want to slit my throat open every single day. I have a huge mental block when it comes to talking about all of it, really. I'm just. I don't know. I've been thinking by myself all day and all night. I can't get it all out my head so I'll write it down. It's just the same as always that comes back to haunt me.
I've always been kind of fucked up. Born to two of the worst people I've ever known. Birth mother who is a huge abusive narcissist parent, who let a kid starve and fend for herself since oh so early. Left abandoned everyday when she spent our money with only god knows what, and the only thing she'd bring home would be unknown men. Forced against my own nature and into this woman's sick religion, expected to follow in her steps career-wise aswell. While having to endure studying pretty much all day (talk leaving home at 7 and only getting back at 11) as a young teen- doesn't sound too bad - but when house, food and everything else duties was also yours then that starts to weight in a lot. Then doing work on the free time I managed to scoop so there would be food to eat. She once lost her job and guess who was the one who had to look for a new one? Yeah. And if something ever went wrong, well, better get ready to wear long sleeves and apply some make-up to hide all those bruises tomorrow at class.
One day though, I ran away. On my 18th birthday. Old enough to not be her possession anymore. Dad found me and brought me with him. He's nowhere near a bad person but nowhere near a good one too. Yet he's one of the worst. He's always knew. But never really did anything. He could've done something, anything. He's very well off. A wealthy man. Yet never worried if I had enough money to eat.
Thankfully, as I learn to fend for myself pretty quickly, I left. That's where that ends.
I found out interesting things during this journey, though. I'm a walking, talking, disease-filled aberration.
And they have always known.
Maybe this is why I was treated so roughly. I hope so. At least there'd be a reason for it instead of just pure cruelty.
Now, pretty much by myself (I do have my boyfriend and friends but there is only so much and outsider to my own mind can do.), I have to deal with all of it by myself.
I survived a cancer. Which I thought I wouldn't because my sickle sell disease treated me roughly during it. I wish I didn't.
I'm always scared of that happening again. The feeling never really goes away. Just like the pain from simply existing. My body always hurts.
And of course, not happy with fucking me up, these two had to breed having the worst genetics ever. So I was gifted with a lot. Born autistic and schizophrenic, with a gene for alopecia which is currently destroying my life- and of course the sickle cell is genetic, too. It had to be.
I've learned how to cope pretty well with being mentally ill. I never really cared about what others think about the way I act or look. It's scary in my own mind but I don't really have to deal with the outside pressure which I see a lot of people who are similar struggle with... But then, I don't need anyone to bring me down when I can do that myself and in the best way possible. I've become my worst enemy.
I just feel like I'm wrong. An aberration. I shouldn't exist. I feel wrong, I see wrong, I do wrong, everything I do... Everything I am...
It just never works out. I'm at fault because I'm me... I just feel like I'm at fault.
I don't succeed in anything. I have a "nice job". But I live in a third world country. I still count pennies to be able to eat and pay rent every month even having a "nice job". I'm not smart or capable enough to do better. Of course.
I could be pretty. Women have a natural advantage in life in my view. But of course I can't even be a woman right. I'm 21 and I'm fucking balding because I was fucking born sick. This is slowly killing me so badly. I freak if I come across my reflection. I can't bear hearing others talk about me, my appearence, the fact others can see me drives me insane. I'm fat, ugly, balding, everything you don't want in a pretty little girl. Not even in this I can succeed. And before anyone says anything. I've spent so much in treatment and I regret it. Nothing works. I stopped eating to pay for treatment hoping something would happen. Nothing works for me. I won't waste more money on it. Simply because I can't. I can barely fucking eat. And even if others say I'm pretty... It's just out of pity. I don't see it. I don't really care unless I'm satisfied. I've only always had myself to care about in the end.
So truly, the only way I can get rid of it all is being born again. For that, I have to die first.
Someday it'll happen and I'll be free from all the pain, the hunger, the poverty, this useless and worthless body that hosts my sick soul. Someday. Someday I'll get rid of all the disease that plagues me.
I can't wait to not feel wrong anymore.
I just mindlessly wrote all of this as a huge vent or whatever. If anyone has experiences like mine feel free to drop by to chat. Or even if you don't. No need to be nice, I won't care.
Now I'll just proceed to finish the graveyard shift for tonight and hope this doesn't come back to haunt me, at least til the morning, then I can just sleep it off. And hope I don't wake up.
I've always been kind of fucked up. Born to two of the worst people I've ever known. Birth mother who is a huge abusive narcissist parent, who let a kid starve and fend for herself since oh so early. Left abandoned everyday when she spent our money with only god knows what, and the only thing she'd bring home would be unknown men. Forced against my own nature and into this woman's sick religion, expected to follow in her steps career-wise aswell. While having to endure studying pretty much all day (talk leaving home at 7 and only getting back at 11) as a young teen- doesn't sound too bad - but when house, food and everything else duties was also yours then that starts to weight in a lot. Then doing work on the free time I managed to scoop so there would be food to eat. She once lost her job and guess who was the one who had to look for a new one? Yeah. And if something ever went wrong, well, better get ready to wear long sleeves and apply some make-up to hide all those bruises tomorrow at class.
One day though, I ran away. On my 18th birthday. Old enough to not be her possession anymore. Dad found me and brought me with him. He's nowhere near a bad person but nowhere near a good one too. Yet he's one of the worst. He's always knew. But never really did anything. He could've done something, anything. He's very well off. A wealthy man. Yet never worried if I had enough money to eat.
Thankfully, as I learn to fend for myself pretty quickly, I left. That's where that ends.
I found out interesting things during this journey, though. I'm a walking, talking, disease-filled aberration.
And they have always known.
Maybe this is why I was treated so roughly. I hope so. At least there'd be a reason for it instead of just pure cruelty.
Now, pretty much by myself (I do have my boyfriend and friends but there is only so much and outsider to my own mind can do.), I have to deal with all of it by myself.
I survived a cancer. Which I thought I wouldn't because my sickle sell disease treated me roughly during it. I wish I didn't.
I'm always scared of that happening again. The feeling never really goes away. Just like the pain from simply existing. My body always hurts.
And of course, not happy with fucking me up, these two had to breed having the worst genetics ever. So I was gifted with a lot. Born autistic and schizophrenic, with a gene for alopecia which is currently destroying my life- and of course the sickle cell is genetic, too. It had to be.
I've learned how to cope pretty well with being mentally ill. I never really cared about what others think about the way I act or look. It's scary in my own mind but I don't really have to deal with the outside pressure which I see a lot of people who are similar struggle with... But then, I don't need anyone to bring me down when I can do that myself and in the best way possible. I've become my worst enemy.
I just feel like I'm wrong. An aberration. I shouldn't exist. I feel wrong, I see wrong, I do wrong, everything I do... Everything I am...
It just never works out. I'm at fault because I'm me... I just feel like I'm at fault.
I don't succeed in anything. I have a "nice job". But I live in a third world country. I still count pennies to be able to eat and pay rent every month even having a "nice job". I'm not smart or capable enough to do better. Of course.
I could be pretty. Women have a natural advantage in life in my view. But of course I can't even be a woman right. I'm 21 and I'm fucking balding because I was fucking born sick. This is slowly killing me so badly. I freak if I come across my reflection. I can't bear hearing others talk about me, my appearence, the fact others can see me drives me insane. I'm fat, ugly, balding, everything you don't want in a pretty little girl. Not even in this I can succeed. And before anyone says anything. I've spent so much in treatment and I regret it. Nothing works. I stopped eating to pay for treatment hoping something would happen. Nothing works for me. I won't waste more money on it. Simply because I can't. I can barely fucking eat. And even if others say I'm pretty... It's just out of pity. I don't see it. I don't really care unless I'm satisfied. I've only always had myself to care about in the end.
So truly, the only way I can get rid of it all is being born again. For that, I have to die first.
Someday it'll happen and I'll be free from all the pain, the hunger, the poverty, this useless and worthless body that hosts my sick soul. Someday. Someday I'll get rid of all the disease that plagues me.
I can't wait to not feel wrong anymore.
I just mindlessly wrote all of this as a huge vent or whatever. If anyone has experiences like mine feel free to drop by to chat. Or even if you don't. No need to be nice, I won't care.
Now I'll just proceed to finish the graveyard shift for tonight and hope this doesn't come back to haunt me, at least til the morning, then I can just sleep it off. And hope I don't wake up.
