🍉We Stay Silly🍉

I find myself feeling a lot like I did back in 2017 when I last tried to seriously kill myself, and as my dumb fucking ass is like to do, I want to yap about it to nobody on the internet.

I turned 27, recently. It's made me reminisce on my life, and all the shitty things I've been through. The rapes, the beatings, the being raised not as a person but as a tool, one that was considered broken at that. The constant forced moving of home, the inability to make friends because of it, the loneliness that lead me into making porn of my child body for monster on the internet. The rejection of everything I am from my parents, the rejection of my identity by the world.

It's all so much to live with. My roommate told me he finds me selfish and narcissistic recently, and it's killing me unside knowing he's right, because it's everything my parents are that I never wanted to be. It makes me wonder, what's the point?

Why do I keep trying? Why do I keep eating? Why do I keep going for walks? Why do I keep playing my games, watching my shows, talking with my one and only friend, taking my HRT? Why do I still bother with any of this when I spend every day praying that it's the one to end me?

What is even the fucking point? I'm miserable every day. I'm alone, and not for lack of trying. I'm unemployed, and not for lack of trying. I have nothing but apathy left. Too lazy to even kill myself. Just rotting away. It's pathetic.

All I want is to go home, but it's occupied by strangers. All I want is to talk to my grama again, but shes dead. So what's the point.