God I don't know what to do with myself anymore. I feel soo ******** broken right now and the only thing keeping me from falling to pieces is myself. Mind you, I have some help though the people who are helping me don't know it. I got family, friends, and others who are unknowingly helping but...they're also the ones that's causing me to break.
Mind you, i'm no ******** emo and this isn't what the journal is bout. I'm just trying to...I don't know. I don't have anymore journals at home since their all full. And DA is a nono cause I want what I say to keep private in a sense. Gaia is my only known answer. No one reads my journals (which honestly it doesn't bug me lol) and not many people will ever bother to try so I consider this safe. Gaia oddly enough is my version of Hogwarts. Its home away from home. I come for school year and then I leave for the summer. By the time I come back, its always to welcoming past friends and new ones. Its safe cause I don't feel as ******** up when i'm here. Which sometimes I think is pretty sad...that I need to rely on a website such as this to feel even slightly sane.
-Sighs- i'm just tired. Emotionally that is...or like in the words of Robin, i'm whelmed. I've always been a fighter...mentally anyways. Life gives me my downs and sure I feel terror, confusion, and I get insecure but I fight through them. I get stronger because of them. I create barriers, make walls, and then come up with defense mechanisms that will help protect me from myself and others.
I"ve been raped, kidnapped, stabbed, held at gunpoint, beaten and stalked by past boyfriends, robbed blind, been betrayed by a good number of past friends, and neglected for awhile as a child. My house is strict where it concerns me, and I have friends who assume things of me cause they can't accept the real me. I'm suffocating yet no one sees. I've been dying yet no one believes. I'm being judge cause they all assume. But ******** i'm gonna snap. And i'm terrified because of it.
I'm becoming week again and I don't know how to fix myself anymore. I'm still fighting cause God I want to keep living...i'm not weak. I don't want to die. I'm not ready to die. I have wants, hopes, and dreams that if even one of them came true, i'd be set and eternally grateful. Cause things could always get worse and that's what I am. Grateful. I'm grateful for having loving parents who raised me right. Who brought me into this world and tried to protect me for as long as it lasted. Who put a roof over my head and feed me still. I'm grateful for the friends i've made and kept over the years. The friends who stuck by me despite the rare moments of insanity I go through. For being part of the small yet heavy anchor that's kept me grounded for so long. I'm grateful for my brother and sisters who without them...I would have surely died. Actually, one of them DID save my life.
As a child...I couldn't handle the daily sexual and physical abuse that I was going through at the time. So one night I went to the pill drawer and grabbed every bottle I could find. We had my grandmother staying with us at the time and she takes some strong stuff. We also have some meds from when my aunt was dying of AIDS at our house...along with other medication that wasn't allowed to be touched by us.
But yeah...grabbed every bottle and slowly started swallowing them one after one. I took liquid medicine and drank that to help swallow down the pills I were taking. I was no where near halfway but it was serious enough where I became dizzy and breathing was getting hard. I was pushing myself to do more when my sister (who's name I won't say) came and found me. I don't think she knew what was going one but she was sure something bad was happening. She started to cry, and grabbed my arms and forced me to drop the pills into the garbage and toilet. The liquid pored down the drain. And the whole time she was crying...for me. And I know this will sound ******** up but back then when I was seven. That meant soo much. She told me she loved me and that I couldn't leave her. Before then...I honestly couldn't remember being told that I was loved. My parents back then were always working so we had various members of the family who would take care of us. And the few times I saw them they were either sleepy or just busy. I'm sure they loved me but they never said it. And the one time I asked...I had broken something and was cleaning it up. They were mad and I looked at them and asked if they still loved me. They glared and me and told me no. There was no playfulness to it at all. That night...I tried killing myself. That night I was saved.
I endured the rape and the occasional beatings, cause I was now fighting for a reason. I wanted to live and protect what was precious to me. I'm grateful to my brother and sisters cause over the years they've been there for me when for the longest time I had no one. Not that they know it or anything lol I'm the oldest so aside from that incident, I never showed my true weakness...well there was a mental breakdown but that happens years later and cause I lost the love of my life. But that's a story I won't ever be truly ready to share.
I don't know bout you but being the oldest doesn't mean just a number. It means responsibility and leadership. As the oldest, I've been drilled to set a perfect example to my sibling. I've been raised to take blame for any and all mishaps that happens because of my siblings. As the oldest, if i'm out preformed by any of them, its cause I wasn't good enough. As the oldest...being strong is a requirement. Parents too busy to take care of their kids? You raise them yourself. If someone is hungry, you learn how to cook and feed them. If their lonely, you keep them company and you don't stop till they're shitting shits and giggles. Someone messes with them, you kick their a** and make them bleed gallons. If there's death. Never cry. Cause they won't be looking to their parents for comfort. They'll be looking to you. Never cry. Not in front of them. Cause you gotta be strong. Gotta reassure them that its okay to cry. That crying doesn't make you weak. That death is a cycle everyone but mythical creatures go through. And when they ask why your not crying. You tell them its cause your an a*****e that can't feel. In times like those...lie. "Smile though your heart is aching...smile even though its breaking" cause that's what they need. That's what being the oldest means. Its why my smiles are so fantastic. I've had all my life to perfect it.
Why i'm writing down such personal things? Cause i'm confident no one will notice. Its not like I have any reason to think otherwise. And honestly, by writing this down i'm trying to calm myself down. It helps me think. It reminds me to breath. It gives me time to put back up my shields of awesome. Cause in the words of uncle Ben, "with great power comes great responsibility". I'm nothing but responsible and it kills me. I'm soo ******** emotionally damaged and my years of depression didn't help. For the longest time I couldn't feel. What I had were brief echos of certain emotions that would be my only cues on when to show a certain expression or not. No medication was taken either for it. The only meds I rely on are the ones that help me when I have my period and the horrible migraines I get when i'm too stressed.
I'm whelmed. Conflicted. Hurting. I'm angry. ******** i'm soo angry. I know life isn't fair but ******** angry. I fight soo hard to ******** live but ******** hate it. Hate fuels my anger. I hate life. Hate Destiny. Hate the Fates for the s**t I had to deal with. But ******** I also hate that i'm grateful to them. I hate that because of them i'm strong. I hate that I don't regret ANYTHING that's happened to me. I hate that no one acknowledges my pain. I hate that no one sees i'm suffering. I hate that no one cares i'm ******** TRYING. I hate that I know why no one sees or hears me. I hate that i'm the reason why. I hate being strong yet I hate being weak. I hate. I hate. I hate. And it hurts. Cause so much negativity is seriously not good for the health. Soo much ungodly wrath that I feel for this world has warped the way I think. I'm a pacifist on the outside but on the inside...i'm violent. Brutal. Bloodthirsty. I'm a monster. I hate myself cause I let myself become one. I hate myself cause i'm not happy. I want ******** I want soo much. But i'm limited. I'm still weak. I can't do this alone. But I can't get help. ******** I've tried. No one listens and the few that do...they won't be able to handle me. Not the real me. I give them snipits. Tell them half truths cause I hate lying. They'll think what I already know. They find out i'm insane and i'll be taken away. And ******** but the moment they even try...i'll be let loose on the world. I'll snap. Cause they'll be unknowingly taking me away from the handful of people who've kept me even slightly remotely sane. They'll be taking me away and unknowingly letting the keys to my Pandora's box unlock after all the years I've fought to keep it shut.
I'll break. And then i'll laugh maniacally as the world burns around me. I'll die. And the world around me will suffer the consequences because of it. I'll kill everyone. The people closest to me first because their dangerous. I'll go for the ones who dared to love me. I'll go for the ones I dared to love. And the whole time i'm doing it, i'll be crying but that smile will be ******** there.
Why I hate so much? Why i'm angry? Cause i'm strong. Cause I let myself live. Cause somewhere deep inside...I know that secretly...I want to die. And because of that secret want...I can't. I'm angry and I hate cause it could be soo much worse. Cause I know there are things worth living for. Cause I want to live while at the same time i'm hoping to die. Cause ******** i'm possessive and controlling. And that's what the monster that lives inside me want. It wants to take, take, take. Whether its lives, people, material things, or the world. It wants to take and ******** a part of me understands why.
So what do I do? I'm weak. I'm feeling things I can't understand. I've read books and I know the mechanical aspect of it but what does it mean? Is it real? Why do I feel what I feel? What do I do? ******** do I do? I'm mentally killing myself over this and I don't know how to stop it. I can only postpone till I come up with a answer.
...I hate living cause despite all the negatives...i'm still trying to love. Cause why else would I go through this ******** up hell I found myself in if I didn't ******** love the few people who even come close to making me happy? I'm angry and I hate cause they'll never know what I put myself through cause I love them soo ******** much. Love can kill. I'm the perfect example of that cause its killing me.
I'm not crying wolf, I don't expect much. I just wish there was someone who cared enough to actually listen and not regret hearing me. Someone who won't judge me, someone who will understand even if its just a little. Cause people always say that they're there for you when your in trouble...well...where are you then? Cause for once i'm the Damsel in Distress yet there's no superman here to save me. But no worries. I'll do what I always do. Get back up when i've been beaten down. I'll be fine.
I can't deal with this s**t anymore. I just wanna tear my heart from my chest cause its the calm before the storm right now and I need to run.
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