The Story From A Broken Mind
I am depression but can’t show it. I can’t just lay down and do nothing. I have to survive because surviving is the only thing I have ever been good at. The only thing I can look back on and feel proud about. I am glad I survived to this age, no. But happy and pride are two different emotions. And I have been told you can do that have two different emotions about the same thing.
When I was like 13 my mother left me in a Westmoreland county juvenile detention center that she had put me in saying I was incorrigible. But my life was no cake walk up to that point. By the age of 16 I was molested by eight men and two women. At different times. I was abused and made to abuse.
I am/was scared.
I had a mother that did not want me and father that did not want me and a stepfather that just used me to get to my mother that did not want him.
I have lost the only person that I truly believe could love me, and cannot get emotional attached to people no matter how hard I tire.
I feel lonely and disgusted by the thought of a person’s touch at the same time.
My mental illness has left me unstable and unable to ever have a normal life. I can’t ever get good work because I have so many felonies and other criminal charges from running from an imaginary group of people that my mind made me believe was real and where trying to kill me.
I have done unspeakable things to people, and can’t feel guilty about it.
All I want to do is take a whole bottle of pills go to bed and never wake up. I really honestly prey to whomever is out there that they just let me not wake up in the morning.
I don’t want the pain.
I don’t want the loneliness.
I don’t want the voices in my head.
I don’t want the pills that I have to take so I am not worse off.
I don’t want to hate everyone.
I don’t want to have CCTV all over the in & outside of my house.
I don’t want to feel like I am being followed
I don’t want to not trust
I don’t want to not understand people
I don’t want to survive anymore