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Hurting so much from my parents. It’s crazy how much damage they can inflict on you with a few simple words. My dad has never been a protector, there’s been countless of times that I choose to forget where I am in a dangerous situation and he didn’t care and I had to provide with him the mental support that he should’ve given me. My mother, isn’t a nurturing type either and emotionally unavailable and no matter how much I try to be enough for her to care, she doesn’t love me. None of my parents were able to provide safety or even say I love you. I can’t remember the times when they said they loved me or the hugged me without it being something they needed, like to assuage their own guilts instead of recognising my pain. And yet, even though it was never sincerely aimed at me, I licked at the crumbs for their affection. I remember two distinct times where it hurt so much that I thought I should just die. During my younger years at primary school where I got constantly bullied for years and none of my parents stood up for me or showed me how to stand up for myself. It was such an isolating experience. My father especially, I saw how much of a coward he was and knew from a young age that he wasn’t reliable. The second memory is of my mother, when I tried to “open” up and she dismissed me and said I was being “too emotional” and then blackmailed me through saying that if I was strong enough I should just leave the house. I learnt that you cannot rely on anyone but yourself. No one has ever fought in my corner. Never. So I tried so hard to strengthen myself, to never let myself be weak. I killed anything to do with emotions, with love and hope and being soft like a “woman”. I killed that and stuck to logic, working crazily and expecting everyone to fail and leave me. And they do. So many people have left and hurt me that I’m not even surprised. Not even hurt by it. Just bitter acceptance is all that’s left. And now, I know there’s something wrong with me as it’s all catching up. I burst out crying when I see a loving family, I can’t stand people being happy or someone complimenting me. I’m doubtful of all my success to the point where I can’t even enjoy them. I feel directionless in life, not knowing what I want since I’ve only served what their wishes my entire life. I’m alone. So alone. God so alone. What if I died? What if I just took some pills and ended it here? Would the pain go away? Would it? I don’t know and I’m miserable with my own cowardice. If I had any resolve I would end it here. I’m not sure what is making me stay here. I’m numbed. Exhausted. But why do I still fight goddamit! Why am I still wanting to live, still trying to make sense of it all? I’m so angry. So angry that I can’t fix me, so angry that I’m this way. Weak. Weak! Weak!!!! I hate it so much that I want to kill her. Kill this part of me that’s always huddled in a ball weeping at her past, crying out for her dad and mum, shivering in fear of being alone. I hate her. I hate her!
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