Spluck

Chat I low-key dont even know if theres anything to fix if this is all I've ever been

I was raised to be good for them, now I dont know how to be good without someone to do it for.

I hope some day I can wake up and have the day be mine

When is it my turn to live my life.

Why can't I feel and want like a normal person. Why does it hurt so bad but feel so empty.

What I hate about my father the most, is that he left me with this void I tried to fill so desperately I let people use me. That even now I lay alone in bed and it hurts so much because I ache for that missing piece.

I think what scares me about getting help is that I have to start over, Ive lived forever with these issues being a part of me. Ive depended on them to make decisions, and what happens when they're gone. Who am I when all Ive ever been is mentally ill?

I hate that I dont know how to feel. That this thing that comes naturally to so many people is so difficult for me.

Its always "Thank you for stepping up" always "You're so strong" but its never "Im sorry for doing this to you" never "You shouldn't have to deal with this"

I was supposed to focus on my life, try to gain back my entire life that I lost due to my mental health, due to the decisions I didn't make. But instead now Im responsible for a kid, a kid who needs me for 5 years. Because my parents fucked me over again, because fucking my childhood up causing me to never recover and wasting my teenage years wasn't enough. Because now my life is about him until Im almost 30. And then what when I try to fix myself? I try to get better? I try to find something? I ignore the envy I feel towards people who had fun teen years? Who got to be stupid young adults? Knowing I got to waste a third of my fucking life because of my fucking parents. Because they were both so incompetent and failed their jobs so bad? I thought I was finally free, I thought I was gonna get better. Im so tired Im so tired and now he needs me because his parents are fucking stupid.

Sometimes Im just tryna be horny and then I remember a lot of my kinks just come from my base urge to feel wanted. Like oh Im not horny anymore now Im sobbing in my bed. How nice.

Despite my outward pessimism, I find that inside I have this hope that my life will get better. That I will wake up happy one day, that my dream of having a husband and a child and a nice life will be real. Maybe thats why it feels like a stab in the gut every time my bad luck manifests, how anytime I try to improve some new thing happens. It feels like a reminder that this is the life I deserve.

My hands are bloodied and dirty from constantly clawing at the edge of the pit, finding thet every time Im progressing it just gets deeper. At some point you lose hope of actually getting out, instead just continuing to claw knowing all you can do is not sink to the bottom.

I obsess over sad gay men who end up happy because I can relate to their devastating sadness and know I'll never have the happy ending they get.

Im not okay.