@-Autxmn.s

6 months ago

A random vent I made (WARNING: FOUR PARAGRAPH ESSAY ABOUT MY LIFE) Introduction POV: I have felt alone for almost my entire life. Even when someone was there. It seems, I get this eerie feeling that no one likes me as a friend/person every time I'm around anyone. I get this feeling, that deep down, everyone hates me. It feels like my mom is lying to me when she says she loves me. I know for a goddamn fact my older brother is the* favorite child. My mom said that “I don’t need to be so serious all the time” oh, really? If I even tried to be un-serious, I would probably get yelled at for my attitude. Body Paragraph One I have been suicidal since i was in third grade. It’s because I have been bullied by my brother since kindergarten, because I’m “annoying,” and I don’t get what I ever did to my brother. Oh, wait, it’s because I was being too much of myself back then. I can never be myself, ever. I was also bullied in first grade, well it wasn’t really bullying, because it was this one guy, Isaac would mock my words, and my teacher did nothing about it. She just told me it was because “he liked me,” life isn’t just a wattpad story. I was also bullied in third grade, physically, and mentally. Mentally, because he would call me names, harass me, shame me, attempted manipulation by saying I said a swear word, call me ugly, and say the worst things, and he would say that I’m a “crybaby” along with this guy Michael. And Michael still calls me a “crybaby” until this day, when I probably haven’t cried in front of anyone for over a year, and haven’t cried since that time. And I hate when I get called a “crybaby” because being called that gives me trauma, and whenever someone calls me a crybaby, it reminds me of my old self, a cowardly annoying bitch/whore. And I also got bullied physically when I got rocks thrown at me. Body Paragraph Two I hate myself because of my past self, my trauma, I fear the past, and the future, and anything that reminds me of my past, I absolutely hate it, because it makes me afraid that I will never change, ever. I want to die terribly badly, I can’t do this anymore, I’ve been thinking of how I will kill myself in the future since I became suicidal. It’s funny, because i’ve tried to starve myself before, when I was eight, EIGHT, and my mom hasn’t thought anything of it, she even knew I tried to starve myself, yet she didn’t care at all. I don’t think she wanted me to be born, she most likely views me as a mistake, because i wasn’t planned. Isn’t* it sad* that my own mother doesn’t care about me, and views my brother as the non-failure child, when my mom and brother have arguments a lot. I view people see me as “fat” “attention seeking” “annoying” “too serious” “wanna-be depressed” “ugly” “boring” “stupid” “disgusting” “crybaby” “worthless” “good-for-nothing” “idiotic” “crazy” “too energetic” “a person who takes small things too Body Paragraph Two (PT.2) seriously” “whore” “hoe” “bitch” “shitty” “slut” “stereotype emo” “wanna-be goth” “too bright of a person” “mistake” “out-of-mind” “insane” “manipulator” “controlling” “too emotional” “bitchy” “motherfucker” “fuck-girl” “animal” “time waster” “useless” “asshole” the list could go on forever. Body Paragraph Three I feel alone, even when people are right by my side. I feel like they would ditch me for my enemies, and forget about me. I feel alone when I’m with my “bffs” because they call me names as a “joke,” so they feel like fake people, who would leave you for each other, your enemies, people you don’t even know, and become a total stranger to you, and they are more social with people they’ve known lesser than you. They become a new person so quick, it’s like they’re someone else, and you don’t even recognize them, it’s crazy. I have a fear of being forgotten, and I’m gonna be forgotten really soon, won’t I? It’s crazy, someone I’ve known for ten years, yet there’s some people that they're friends with, and they’re closer with those people, than you’re closer with each other. Body Paragraph Four It really feels like the only person who truly cared about me was my Grandpa, who died of Alzheimers, a form of dementia, a year and four days ago. Even if you couldn’t tell sometimes, I knew he was the one person who loved and cared about me, no matter who I was, I have lost faith in all humanity at this point, my Grandpa, and one of my friends was/are the only part of humanity I believe(d) in.

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