My Painful VentThere are times in life where I open my eyes and wonder why the light floods in when I want it to be dark. I want it so my eyes never open again. I hate life, I hate my past. Life has had its fun with me, it has gave men the satisfaction of raping me, the total of rape now... 10. It gave my step mum the joy and pleasure of abusing me since I was six years old, gave her the pleasure of molesting me from eight years old. It had the satisfaction of taking my twins life at fours years old.
Now it can take the satisfaction of this, my death. I welcome it and its cold bitter lies with open arms. Arms covered in scars that cover more scars. Scars that root into my empty soul. A soul that was once filled with light, filled with hope... filled with freedom. Now I am a prisoner to my own depression and fear. Depression from being ****** about my entire life. A life that had no childhood, a life that only knows pain as a answer. I am a disapointment to most people, there are a few who care but would they just forget me like the kind in the world left me behind? I try to tell people to stay strong but how can I do that when I cannot keep strong myself. My walls are breaking, the walls that I had build around my shattered heart. To protect me from emotions, from fear and pain. Now all that is left is holllow tears that fall every night, that flood the silence and voices in my head.
No I am not crazy, just broken. I curl up in my cold room every night as memories flood into my mind. No where to run, no one to run to just bitterness and pain to run from. The strange thing is that pain has became so important in my life that I would be lost without it. I have faced so many trials and it leads to this, my point in life where I break. Tears fall even as I write this, blood pours silently out of my slits. But no this is not suicide or even my death, this is just self harm. It is like my net, my safety net so I know I am still alive. Yes I want to die but I do not at the same time. When I have nothing or no one I wil always have something and someone. I look at the world with dead eyes, I am vunrable, weak, broken. I am still a person, I have emotions.
This is depression of loosing your innocence as a child as if it is a milestone. It was in my life, as it was the start of never ending pain. Now all that is here is numb and hate. I want to love but I am afraid, I want to breathe but I cannot, I want to open my eyes to the light but there is only black. As a victim of severe bullying, vile abuse, disgusting rape and shattered depression I know pain. I know cold and warmth. I know love and hate. I know who I am and I hate it but I cannot change my past, I can make my future but the past will always catch up with me one day. So I write this, no I do not want pity as pity is a horrible feeling I just wanted to get this off my chest, thanks for reading.