I have destroyed my own life, along with some others. I'm not going to blame anyone else for my mistakes-- they we're simply there to influence me but my choices were my own. I was misguided. But I've always been that way. My nature and my impulses were always to self destruct- tear apart what was good- back myself into an emotional hole.
My sob story starts off like a lot of others. I was a reasonably extroverted child who liked acting and reading ''lesson'' stories about kids getting their heads stuck through playground bars in primary school. Pretty much, I was shy - a contradiction to my borderline extroversion. I always had a self-sufficient nature and was not at all trusting, which has been a strength in my life as much as a weakness. I felt - and still feel, sometimes - like I wasn't meant to be born in the time period I was in, like God misplaced me here. I also always felt the pull of some sort of destiny I needed to fulfill in my life, something I needed to find. All of these emotions I had at a young age.
But I was spoiled and robbed of the majority of my childhood innocence when I was told of my father's mistakes. He cheated on my mother with a 16-year old boy. And all because I'm HIS daughter, my mother and her own mother have always been very cruel to me and treated me like the freak of the family. A lot of the time, I didn't even understand what was going on-- but the repercussions were horrible. I didn't have a strong relationship with my mother in the first place. She was the complete opposite of me and we always seemed to rub eachother up the wrong way. I've lived with the guilt my entire life of just being born. I also live with the guilt of wanting to get to know my father and his family.
Then I realized how silly it was to trust anyone in this world, even my own mother. Especially when I so greatly /wanted/ to trust people. Now, It isn't as bad as others have had it. It is just quite bad.
Pretty much, at around 10 I became an anger filled and depressed mess. I got into self harm around 11. I didn't do it for fun- I actually never took drugs with other people around. I cut my thighs, hoping to numb some of the anger I felt on a daily basis. By 13, I was having crying spells every day. My mother found out I was cutting and removed anything I could do it with. Music became my only solution.
I wanted help. I even asked my mother for it- explaining how I felt and how worked up I got (to the point of passing out, several times). Of course, she ignored me, said she ''didn't want the hassle''.
I became very suicidal. I have secretly attempted to kill myself one time. It was a pretty lame attempt - a handful of painkillers and multivitamins. But it was me, trying to kill myself. Another three times I came really close. Anyway, I didn't take enough of the tablets and woke up, with nobody any the wiser.
I have a hard time caring now. I seem to have lost 94% the capacity to feel emotion, yet I still have periods of extreme emotion and crying, then back to apathy again. That's about the only real damage I have.
God, please help me. I keep making mistake after mistake. I keep putting myself into horrible situations. I’ve let my obsessions take over me like a curse. I’ve let my heart rule me. My perception of myself has changed. I am a weak person. A terrible person. A coward. The kind of person I scorned my mother for being.
I want to die or run now. Dying sounds so wonderful now. I can’t believe the mess I have gotten myself in. I know it’s not a good option. But it's getting unbearable. And the only person I have truly ever trusted is me, and I can easily claim I hate myself now. I wrote this to persuade myself not to kill myself.
I am lost and afraid I’m going to do something drastic.