Venting What is the last straw?

[shadow_sunset]

What really killed me? Was it the ugliness I feel inside of me? How little I care for others, yet I care about myself the same amount. Was it the ugliness I felt outside ? The acne? the infections? the unfeminine way i felt no matter how much makeup I applied. Was it the way I didn't trust my self? My own judgement? My own memory? My own choices? Was it how I believed I was always below anyone. Or was it not being able to be anyone in life, not having the choice? What was it? Could that be all? Seems pretty small to me. I guess most people would say that. Yet again. They never had to live a day in my body or my mind or my life. Maybe what killed me was my pattern recognition. How I realized nothing has eventually ever gotten better. You know people have said that a lot. " it gets better, it shall pass" and to that I say with what certainty? Are patterns not reliable anymore or is hope the standard. I could hope that unicorns that fly exist and keep looking that could for sure keep me alive, I could go through hell and back trying to look for those damn unicorns but it doesn't mean they exists at all.

 

[Forever Sleep]

I imagine it's more the effect those things you have described has had on your life. I suppose it depends on what you want socially but, if you feel a need for people, then I imagine all of the above makes it harder for you. Plus, if you fear those things may not improve, it can stifle hope.