“Kill them with kindness.” God, I hate that saying. And, “Treat others how you want to be treated.” It’s all complete and utter bullshit. My entire life, I’ve put everyone before myself, always went the extra mile (or extra fucking miles if you will), and for what? I’ll tell you what I’ve gotten in return. Slapped, punched, shoved, ridiculed, taken for granted, abandoned, assaulted, raped, lied to, screamed at, falsely accused of shit. I.am.tired.
I love people with all I am; I can’t help it. I have my Borderline Personality disorder to blame for that (given to me by my lovely parents). If I could shut it all off, I would have done it by now. No matter what I do, I get shit on by somebody. Why do the good people have it the worst??? I don’t see how that’s fair considering the majority of my life has been dedicated to making everyone happy. I wonder if it would be best if I died. Like, would that make them happy? Is that what they want? If I’m dead, they won’t have anyone to hurt anymore I suppose. I’d be able to see Lex and Blake again, so why the fuck am I still here? I was dying and nobody was there. Almost everyone that I loved fucking left me when I was hurting the most I’d ever hurt before. I almost died several times, Blake died, I’m still grieving Lex, my place got busted into and trashed, I got evicted, and where were all my “friends” that I bled myself dry for? Posting shitty things about me on social media, leaving me in an unheated, shit-hole of an apartment with no way out for months.
I’ve spent so much time entirely alone; the feeling is burnt into my memory, carved into my heart, and tattooed onto my soul. I was losing my mind. I see myself staring at the blood on the walls, at the empty cupboards, at the flies, the mold, the memories, the drugs. I hear myself screaming until my whole body hurt. I smell the mold and the garbage. I feel starved and in pain. And sometimes, it feels like I never made it out of there.
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