Last night i cried for 4 hours straight.
I created a broken family. I created pain. My daughter will not know what its like to wake up to mommy and daddy singing together in the kitchen. She will have 2 of every holiday. And though that sounds great, its anything but and I speak from experience.
I have caused a great deal of stress for my family. My mother, and my step father. I have cost them thousands of dollars with my mistakes. I have hurt them with my illness. They make it clear. They make it known. They tell me how much it hurts them. What I have done to them.
And the people around me… trying to understand and trying to be there for me during my depressive, ptsd ridden episodes… I hurt them. They try and understand but they can’t. I am a burden. I am weak. With every movement I explode, and trash everything around me. I don’t mean to. I wish I didn’t. I wish I was better. I wish I could be normal. I wish I believed that when someone said they loved me they really meant it. That when they hold my hand I knew they wouldn’t let go, but if they did that I would be okay.
I am not that.
Yesterday, my boyfriend left to go out of town for a few days. We’ve texted a few times. I said I love you twice, and I miss you…and he didn’t even acknowledge any of it.
Last night I cried for four hours straight. The obsessive thoughts. over..and over.. it is broken. you are broken. let go. let go. let go. I slashed at my wrists and tied a rope around my neck. his words were “wherever you go, i’ll always miss you. i’ll always love you.” so easily they came. he stroked my hair and his pain came and his love slipped.
I could never be loved. I could never be what someone wanted. Just me. And all of this. I have tried to get help and nothing seems to work. I am done trying. I am done with this life. And someday… someday I’ll be brave enough to take that last step. Because this body is torture. this life is motionless.