Sometimes, I wonder if anyone misses me, the way I miss them.
Hello depression, nice to see you again, I can’t say that I’ve missed you over the last month. I guess that was a just a vacation.
My sister was in a multiple car accident and is in the hospital right now with several injuries. Please keep her in your thoughts.
I used to love finding your secret, hidden notes around
Now they make me physically ill yet I can’t bring myself to throw them away. What the fuck is wrong with me? They are just full of lies that I still believe.
I’m glad that you’re happy and loving life, knowing you lied to police, on court documents, actually wanted to try and put me in jail for things YOU made available, and knowing what you did behind my back. I agreed to your bullshit because I didn’t want to drag your family through hell in that courtroom in order to win, which I would have had to do, and because I know that Karma will make this all right somehow.
Regardless, I’ll never be the same and that really fucking sucks. You broke me and pills and doctors don’t know how to fix me.
Don’t get me wrong, I was broken before, and I made that clear up front, but I hadn’t given up. I still enjoyed life, I had many many things to be thankful for and reasons to be happy. Now, those things just make me cry, but I still can’t stop thinking about them.
I’m broken and I don’t think it can be fixed
I’m fully aware that I’m broken, I don’t need anyone to tell me this. I’ve been broken for a long time. Only 1 person has ever made me truly feel like it was okay though. I believe them when they said they didn’t judge, that they understood, and that everything would be alright. I believed every word and I gave them the same acceptance and love.
I was thankful to have that person in my life. So thankful I meditated and thanked the universe for bringing them to me. I thanked the universe every night when I would lay down next to them to sleep. I felt so lucky, knowing that most people will never feel the love we share on a daily basis.
I kept on believing, for a year and 4 months, I had no reason to believe any differently, until I was woken up and told that I was too broken. Not that I had done anything wrong, that I was simply too broken to be with anymore. The things I believed about always being there for me, they weren’t true. None of it was true, it was all a cruel joke.
“Doctors” just write me prescriptions. People I thought were my friends betrayed me. My real friends don’t hang out with me anymore. Everyone is sick of hearing my sob story and so am I, but I can’t be fixed and I can’t remove these memories. I don’t even know if they are real or not. I’m told that everything was real, if that’s the case they why did you do this to me? How could you lie on court documents multiple times? Because I’m broken and it’s time to be put out my misery.
I’m sick of crying myself to sleep. Time doesn’t heal wounds, it makes them fester and get worse.
I have so much confidence when I already know how to do something
Why does that translate to extreme, debilitating, anxiety when I don’t know how to do something?
Time hasn’t healed shit
I just realized it’s been 4 months… Feels like a couple weeks at most.
Love and whores
First of all, thanks to all the anons for sending messages, links, and concerns. Obviously certain trolls sent them with malice, but the majority of people seemed worried.
I’ve met several girls right after, or at the peak (downfall?), of their “whore phases,” and the stories are always the same. Being stood up, being used for sex, and low self-esteem (often hidden by outward confidence to make it seem like they are happy with their lives at the moment). I showed them what it’s like to be actually cared about, to be loved, to have someone tell them they are beautiful, to have someone be interested in them outside the bedroom, and someone who can actually satisfy them in the bedroom. I gave them actual confidence, helped showed them how to be happy, and laugh together. I shared every element of my life with them, my friends, my family, my hobbies, and my dreams.
The problem with all of this is that some women are actual, literal, whores. They feed off of that attention more than anything else. All the things you give them and do for them is forever compared to any other attention they can get.
This is the mistake that I made: Whores don’t know what love is.
No matter what they say, no matter what they do; it’s not real. The only thing that is real, you’ll never know, and she’ll never tell you, because it’s all about her. If she finds a way to get more attention than you can give, you’re fucked.
As all the people who sent me messages have seen; some people care more about being able to be naked on the internet than what they do to others. It’s really ironic when it’s a person who complained about roommates being inconsiderate everyday. Then again, you also blamed me for you being sick every morning, while you’re clearly still having that problem.
I thought you were a better person, I didn’t think you’d ever do the things you’ve done to me, and continue to do to me. I thought that you loved me and maybe you did, but it was clear when we were together you didn’t love me most, and now everyone can see that.
When you decide to ruin someone’s life because they were too depressed already to give you 100% attention, you’re a bad person. When not being able to post yourself naked on the internet is the worst thing to happen in your life, you’re a bad person. When you post in the same message that you “love” someone and also are having sex with other people, you’re not just a bad person, you’re a whore, and you don’t know what love is.
I don’t know what happened to the woman I love (present tense), but I’m starting to wonder if she ever even existed.
I kinda feel like the world is pushing me away.
Am I just not wanted anymore?