Honestly, I feel like I'm not the only one who feels a despair and hopelessness so deep, we feel we'll never get back out. Life has always been hard, but I've been able to fight through it. A big FUCK YOU to society.
I wanted to prove to myself that I could be someone of value despite the roadblocks life has thrown at me, and the impossible expectations people have. But I've come to realize it's all an endless cycle. And I wish it would all just stop. Sorry for the long rant. I guess I just needed to get all of this out in the open.
I grew up a broken child, from a broken poor family. Literally everyone in my family has had tragedy befall them. My dad left us when I was too young to understand, and yet old enough to remember. My mom wasn't the same. She became increasingly violent, lashing out at us. But my sister was not as resolved, her anger didn't reach the heights that mine did. An anger so deep, I shut nearly everyone out and started self mutilating, cuts on my arm where I could hide it. It was a pain I could control, a pain that made sense. Loneliness and feeling worthless didn't. Every cut drowned out that deafening emotional agony. I defended my sister as long as I could. Until, selfishly, I left for college on a scholarship. Not so much for the academics, but to escape the prison that "home" had become. I had learned to be self sufficient, to trust no one, to take help from no one, and rely only on myself. Others will always fail you in the end. But eventually, my demons led to my downfall.
Our demons never leave us. We can bury them under distractions like college and jobs, with dreams and goals. But they always linger below the surface. I hadn't cut since October but I started again. I kept myself so busy I forgot how lonely I was. Even though I was becoming successful in my job, getting that even better job I had applied for. I still felt worthless. Even as I built a reputation as a reliable and creative problem solver over 8 years, becoming a unit lead, I still felt unfulfilled. Whenever someone needed help, I resolved to help them. To never say no. Expecting nothing in return. It was the right thing to do, and I wanted to be a better person. To earn the right to happiness. What I really wanted was somewhere to belong. I thought if I became a better person, that dream would come to fruition.
To make a long story less long, I decided I wanted to try to work this out. Despite what she had done, I still loved her more than life itself. I told myself that I'd love my mom no matter what she's done. I just never expected to be tested to this degree. She agreed to work on her anger issues, but it has been a slow process with no end in sight. My instinct tells me that our relationship is dead. And it's usually right. I knew in my gut what was happening since the beginning and I let my heart lead my mind. My instinct guided my recovery from my crash in college. For over a decade, it led me to success. Until it conflicted with the bullshit I had to go through. And, to my detriment, I chose to trust my mom. Over these recent months I self destructed, my will to live eroding. I had self harmed and overdosed on pills. I planned options for suicide without committing to any. I even sought therapy to help me control my despair. But therapy never helped in the past. Not like it has recently. My doctor saved my life, though she may not realize how close I was to ending it before I decided to seek help. I'm on meds, but they don't seem to be helping with the severe lows. This betrayal broke me in a way I've never been broken before. Maybe meds can't fix this at all. I allowed myself to be vulnerable, to trust other people. This is the price I pay.
I always hoped that she'd give me unconditional love and support no matter what. But every day that passes, that hope fades and my strength crumbles. Each day is literally a fight for survival. The scars on my arms remind me what I'm capable of, and that I might go too far if I fall any further. But that's up to my mom. I'm in limbo, not knowing what will happen, powerless to affect our destiny. I feel like I'm being punished, and I just want it to end. One way or the other.
So that's my sad story. A relatively successful girl in her early twenties, repeatedly betrayed by the people closest to me. I fucked things up as a teenager.
When I resolved to be a better person, a good person, I still lose. Life is cruel. Money, material possessions, even respect and acknowledgment from my peers never mattered to me. Somehow I had earned all of that along the way. But all that mattered was my family. I thought I finally had somewhere to belong. But life's demons conspired to pull me back down. Maybe I don't belong at all. I have fought fate for a long time, and now I finally feel defeated.
