I'm sorry for the suicidal content in this message, I just need to get it out SOMEWHERE. I don't want to stress anyone out or make them worry.
I feel so guilty when I am suicidal. I don't want to traumatize my best friend, or any of my friends, so I just don't tell him. But then he is upset when I don't, and feels MORE worried because he knows I won't tell him when it's bad, but genuinely things are so hard. I just don't belong anywhere, not even with him. I've lost intelligence somehow. I feel so worthless and so alone. And so ready to set a date and a time and practice to help get over the discomfort and fear of it. On a Thursday, because Thursdays are my lucky days. I wish I would have done it in high school before I got close to my friend because I HAVE traumatized him at this point with.... I don't know what it is. As usual the doctors don't know what's wrong with me. Psychosis? Brain fog episodes from all the damage? I felt hope when Bestie told me the neurologist would help, and I guess it is better, but the damage is done, and I feel so worthless. I just wish I had done it back when I had planned to over a decade ago. I had done everything except the suicide and I both appreciate it and regret it, and it's an awful feeling. I gave myself a really good day, took myself out on a date, went hiking in dangerous places for the thrill, with the intention of being happy, and only committing the suicide if I was genuinely happy so I could finally rest. I'm glad that kid survived and got to live a life without my ex constantly pushing me into psychosis, but. I also wouldn't have had to deal with that if I were in that last peaceful sleep.
I mean, i HAVE traumatized Bestie, now. Or retraumatized him. Or both, I guess. And I dont want to tell him right now because coincidentally he's busy doing something that makes him text less, and apparently I often do that to him and I don't want him to get anxious every time he does something for himself. Well, not every time. Often enough that I worry I'll make him more anxious.
I mean, my original plan was great. The only reason I ended up not doing it was because I wanted to go to college, and I'm glad I did that because I think those years of living alone were the best years of my life. I guess. Minus all the stuff written here in the first years I was here. The trauma and the bad thoughts and everything else follow me anyway sometimes, though unfortunately my body and mind are stronger than they are.
The state hospital was fine, by the way, and I genuinely had a great time and made friends and was impressed with my own spanish so far. Though I wanted to get out and take care of my animals. Yet, out of the hospital, I can't. My mom and my nephew and my sister can't leave me alone, and won't stop needing me for favors. I have nothing to eat. I have difficulty with words and this sounds whiny, but it turns out the reason I wanted to get put up for adoption is because after years of taking care of my family with little or nothing in return, I'm literally falling apart. I THINK they care, but they still constantly need me even when I'm at the end of my rope, and I just want to be left alone. Being here with them is to be in the drama and my mom is constantly having some new emergency and I'm constantly left on edge when Im asked useless questions my brain genuinely can't handle. It's like all the brain damage has finally caught up with me and everything is a new task and I can only do one task a day. I guess that's the autism?
I was literally doing great in the hospital. Back here, pulled back into this awful house once again because I can't work and I don't want to risk being TOO homeless again, I'm right back to being suicidal. Nothing is working out for me, and I don't want to be one of the people who gets institutionalized for years because I WANT to take care of my animals. I don't need supervision, I need housing, I need something to eat, I need somewhere to feel safe and be alone so I can actually think and do the things I want to do. All I feel is shame and I wish I weren't even alive.
After Bestie's parents started abusing me and forced me to leave to just. be homeless, because they decided they hate me for pointing out they shouldn't abuse animals to death. It's been very clear to me that things aren't working out. The world isn't made for most people, but I wasn't going to have a chance. Even without the trauma, there's so much wrong with my brain and body, literally over two pages of just lists of diagnoses, with it getting harder all the time, that I know I was doomed from the start.
I had normal goals and normal dreams like everyone else, but each one has to stop, over and over and over, and I never feel welcome or comfortable anywhere. I'm always the outcast, always the person who can't ever truly be vulnerable because all people do is fear me.
My first suicide attempt was when I was ten years old, and while I'm glad I got out of being trafficked, and got to at least have a few moments of feeling like an actual child every now and then, I wish I had ended it then. One thing I've learned over the years is that you can't be traumatized if you don't actually survive. It's after the fact that it all goes to shit.
I just want to give up and go to sleep and never be found or heard from again, and no one miss me. I don't care if it gets better. There's danger everywhere and so many ways to f*ck up. When the pedophile still owned me and my body, he told me people would be enjoying the videos of me on the dark web long after I was dead. I learned that I might be stalked for the rest of my life by people who want to bring me back into sex rings, either because they like me or because they hope I never tell the police about them specifically. Which doesn't matter anyway, because the main culprit got away with it. Police wouldn't arrest him when he came back to my yard in my teens. "lost the warrant." No one cares that his brother left me notes in my hiding places in the woods as a child. People didn't believe me when I said I knew pedophile was hiding the woods behind my house, even though literally people saw him in there.
I thought I was being stalked in the walmart and panicked and now walmart somehow has the power to take me to court, despite court not being in session. Corporation giants hire people to stalk you until you panic and accuse you of doing crime, even if it lands you in the hospital. And the hospital I was taken to by the police literally abused and neglected me, but no matter how much I asked for help they kept removing my rights one at a time until I wasn't even allowed to hear from anyone from the outside world, wasn't being allowed to drink water, got left on an empty floor with mold in the walls and being told not to ask for my own medications and fed foods I was allergic to and therefore had to rely on packets of butter.
I mean, honestly, what does my progress matter if this keeps happening? am I going to randomly run into Brandi this year too? Think she'll trigger my psychosis on purpose again and tell me it's ME abusing HER again?
I can't even feed myself. I got out of living in a group home by saying I would live with Bestie, and that led to more trauma. That's all there is for me, it seems, is more and more trauma, and more and more motivation to try to get better only for the way our current society is built to tear me down. Any hope or plans after college has slowly been shot midair. One thing after another, until finally I can't even have a job. My spirit has been broken again and again and again and I hate that I'm still alive despite it. All I want is some safety and peace of mind. I want to not be homeless, I want my frequent happiness to not just be empty happiness despite my "situations" that I can genuinely never find a way out of. I want to not be literally so hungry right now and now sure what the f*ck I'm even going to eat. I can't take care of myself but it's my best shot -- I googled group homes the other day and was shocked to see that every answer on "what are group homes like" was so negative. No freedom, some dead end place for people who don't matter anymore because they're too useless to this capitalistic hellscape.
I literally don't feel safe unless I'm institutionalized or near Bestie who doesn't ask for favors until I break down. And I'm too afraid I've hurt him really badly. I can't even feed myself. SOME things are going right but every breath still hurts. Even when I'm truly happy for a while, it doesn't matter.
I'm not scared of death and I never have been. It's just part of the cycle of my body. When my little brother's best friend committed suicide, I was mostly worried about him, but deep down I found myself curious and jealous that she had experienced what death was like and wouldn't be able to tell me.
The problem would be getting my animals new homes so they don't become neglected or traumatized by big changes. I'd rather be a happy memory than a burden and I'd like to stop feeling this crushing anxiety and this emotional and physical pain. I love myself and I want to free myself from all this unfair hand I've been dealt in life. I want to die and become the grass and the insects and the spiders and the bacteria and the fungi and the rocks. I want all future echoes of me in any life that remains at the end of Earth's time to burn up when the sun expands so I can go back to being stardust. I didn't ask to be born and I didn't ask for all these problems. Even when I'm happy I'm just following the motions and not really ever really here anymore. My brain literally can't process the moment before it's gone anyway, thanks to all the injuries. It's literally fine to not be okay, but I feel I've gotten away from trauma too late. I made bad choices in trusting adults and trying to have a friend in Brandi and now things go well enough, and I'm still hungry and in pain.
I don't really want a reply to this or for any feedback or well wishes or reaching out to check on me. I just need to get it out somewhere and not hurt anyone with it. Hopefully I'll be able to sleep through the night and not be interrupted and not have to pick anyone up from the hospital. I'll feel joy again, and therefore it doesn't matter anyway, as far as most people are concerned. I'll try to change my perspective again, but if I don't, it doesn't mean I'm dying.
