It almost seems like a dream, like I am watching a grainy old video footage of another life where laughter and happiness is taken for granted. I longed for the feeling of happiness. It just wasn't in my life.
The last few months have been a deeply confusing time. My family were somewhat a very little part of my life. They had more interesting people to be with. I was completely blown out of the window. I never really knew my family; I suppose it's because I've been passed around since I was 6. None of them really wanted me. They just couldn't get rid of me as they got money for having me. I suppose that was the only perk about me.
Nothing within myself was valuable. It wouldn't have mattered if one day I had been hit by a bus. I sometimes wished for that. I was broken. I will always be broken because nothing will fix my past. I don't know any different. It's always been this way, ever since I can remember.
I can't recall the last time I was happy. Happiness is a luxury for me, a gift. I can never picture the future; the fear of the unknown always creeps above me and haunts me. My mind is a mess, a mess I will never escape. If I was loved when I was younger maybe I wouldn't feel this way. It seems self inflicted. How do other people manage to be so happy? Everyday is the same routine. Wake up, be ignored, go to school to be ignored and alone again, come home, get abuse roared in my face and finally sleep. Most days I don't want to face the day, but what good will that bring me?
I'm constantly being thrown around the family like I'm just a piece of rubbish. I have no time to settle into one house. I often stay somewhere for 2 nights and be thrown around again. During this process I'm verbally and physically abused. I'm mentally and physically scarred and nothing will erase the memories or scars.
This life isn't for me.
