Some days it is hard to live life like there is nothing wrong with you. Some days you just want to crawl into a ball and just die. You work hard to please others but it seems like everybody wants more then you are able to give. It makes you wonder when people say I love you. Do they really love you or are they just saying that to make you feel better. I think that most people tell me they love me because they feel bad for me. They all know that my past hasn’t been the greatest and I can’t trust people anymore. They don’t really love me they just want me to think that I am loved so that I don’t go off and do something stupid like I did before. I have worked hard to improve my lifestyle but it has been too hard and I have left my goal of leading a happy life and gone off on another path that most people don’t come back from. People like to call me emo but they are just joking but they have no idea how emo I really am. I work hard to hide behind a smile but some people can see right through that and they seem to understand that it is just an act and I really hate the world an wish that I could just disappear off the face of the earth and never come back. It has been hard hiding the real person inside me and I guess that its time to let the whole world know my secret. I have told a few people but they don’t believe me. My secret is that I am emo and I am depressed. I hate the world and every bad thing that happens. I hate how I feel at night when I just what to go into a deep sleep and never come out of it. I want people to see me as a whole depression and all. I lie awake at night and wonder what the world is like for other people. Is it as bad as mine as been is it as hard there are so many questions and so little time to answer them. Some times I just want to scream out at the top of my lungs why me god why me. Why does it always have to be me who has the hard times? Why does it seem like everybody around me is having the time of their lives and then there is me sitting on the side lines wondering where I come in. Where is my happy life, where has it been my whole life, will I ever find it in time? Can I ever be happy, or will I become like one of those people who sit at home with everything that they could ever want but yet they are still not happy? I don’t want to become like that, I want to be happy with who I am and I want people to accept me for who I am and I would really like it if people could understand the feeling inside of me, the ones that I don’t let show because I don’t want people to think I am a freak. Some people would accept me but I know others would turn away and be afraid to talk to me or be near me. It would be like I have a contagious disease. It seems like I can’t tell anybody anything anymore. For example a while ago I told my friends when I was younger I made a horrible mistake that I now know was wrong. I told them a secret that I hoped that they would understand, only to find out that most were frightened by it and couldn’t understand why I had done it. I tried to explain to them that I needed a way out of my life but they just became afraid of me and treated me like a baby. As hard as I try to be true with them they turn away and make me feel like an outcast because they try to make me feel like I am a horrible person because they haven’t done it. I don’t seem to understand how they can complain when they have never been in the situations I have been in. They will never understand how hard it was for me to find an escape from being beat. They would never understand how at night I would cry myself to sleep only to be woken up by being thrown onto the hardwood floor in the hall because I had to sleep in the bed with my mom because we didn’t have enough money to buy another bed. She would want to be alone in the bed so she would just pick me up and throw me on the floor. None of my friends have ever felt that pain to have to sleep in the hallway shivering in the cold with no sheets or blankets to keep warm. They would never understand this but yet some still criticize me for doing what I did in order to escape. Some still don’t believe me that any of this ever happened but I would never lie about anything as horrible as that. When I try to forget what has happened to me in the past it doesn’t work. I either have nightmares or I have to get it off my chest before I explode. When I keep it all inside it hurts but it’s hard to let others know about how I was treated. When it hurts to bad I go into hiding and cry until I can’t cry anymore, but most times that really doesn’t help. The only thing that really helps is talking to somebody but I can’t talk to anybody because I am afraid that they would go off and tell somebody else because I have told people things and they have gone off and told others even after I begged them not to tell people. Like one person almost got me in big trouble, I told her something really private and hard to talk about and she went off and told even though I begged her that I was fine and I was safe and nothing would ever happen to me again but she still went off and told the authorities. I was so mad at her she had me freaked out for the longest time because I didn’t know when or if the whole thing would ever blow over and I could lead a normal life again.
I wish people could actually understand what it felt like to have to fight for what I really believed in. I believed that maybe I could be happy for all eternity and my mom would stop being horrible and hurtful. I thought maybe if I was a better daughter and did everything she wanted she would be nicer and less hurtful, I tried and I failed miserably, she thought that I was hiding something and beat me harder then usual.
I wish that people wouldn’t judge me by the way I act. People look at me and decide that I am shy, emo and anti social. I must admit I am shy at first but that doesn’t mean I don’t like you. If you think about it a lot I really am emo. I don’t really like life and I am not very happy with it. When you first meet me in real life I may seem anti social and shy but I am not really. I don’t like meeting new people because I can’t trust them. I can’t trust people until I really get to know them because I have been hurt way to much by people that I trust. Some days I can’t trust people at all, I sit and think about life and I wonder about how I would love life if I was the only person on earth. I can’t even trust my friends. I am afraid to tell them things because I don’t want the whole world to know and some people don’t know how to keep their big mouths shut. I go to tell them something and then hear it from somebody else in a few days. It’s hard for me to trust people it always has been and it always will be.
People who have been abused have a different view on life; they think that they will never find true love because its hard to truly love someone once you have been hurt by someone who you thought loved you. I was abused by my mom and now I find it hard to really love my dad. Parents don’t have a loving affect on me anymore. He tells me I love you and I respond with an I love you that’s completely not true. I have to try and put on a happy face when I am around him because he finds it hard to believe that I can’t put the past behind me and live my life like a normal teen. He thinks that he knows what I have been through because he was spanked as a child but he has no clue. A spanking is completely different then being hurt by a person you loved and trusted. I learned how to store the pain away in a part of my body so I would never feel it. She could hit me all day and I wouldn’t complain because the pain of her hitting me went away after I figured that she didn’t love me and didn’t care if I was in pain. The pain of her not loving me was much more painful then the slaps I would receive after she got home from a bad day at work. The pain felt like she was pushing a knife further and further into my heart and just letting me bleed. It hurt so much when I finally figured it out that she didn’t love me I learned after all she didn’t want me anyway. I found out from my sister that my mom never wanted me. When she heard she was pregnant she wanted to have an abortion because she didn’t want me. It was hard hearing that but it brought me to the realization that she only had me so that she would have a punching bag that was too small to know what was going on or how to fight back.
When I was younger I let her push me around. Then I got sick of it. I tried to fight back but that only made her madder and her hits were more painful. I gave up trying to defend myself and I found some places that I could hide at if I thought that I was going to be pushed around that night. I was small enough to fit under her rocking chair and she couldn’t find me so many nights that is where I slept. Soon she found out where I was hiding, my sisters probably told her they never really liked me either. Once she found where I was hiding she came home in a good mood and made me think that sleeping in the bed with her was going to be okay. During that night it felt like I was being lifted up off the bed but I was too tired to wakeup. When I woke up I felt pressure in my chest and I couldn’t figure out why. I looked up only to find her sleeping on the rocking chair which was nicely placed right over my lungs, heart and ribs. My ribs were broken so I was stuck in bed for about a week, I thought I might be safe for a wile because I was able to sleep in my sister’s bed and she had to sleep with my mom but sure enough I was wrong. I would wake up to her pounding on my chest with her rolling pin and then she would sit there and tell me how much she loved me. It took a while but I finally learned how to sleep through stuff like that. I would wake up with bruises and then I would know that somebody had done something she didn’t like and I was her punching bag. I would never wear Tee shirts or shorts because something on me would always be black and blue or swollen and I was sick of making up excuses like I ran into a door or fell while walking.
Once you have been hurt it’s hard to not want to hurt the person who hurt you the most. Many nights I wake up from a dream and or nightmare where I am killing my mom. In my dream I kill her and leave her body to rot. After one of these dreams I would wake up crying because I know what I did was wrong. I am a bit glad that I kill her in my dreams because then I am satisfied and I don’t want to do it in real life. I am surprised how many people like me have been abused but don’t turn out to be abusive. I know that I will never become like my mother because I know that what she did was wrong. I could never hurt somebody I loved no matter how much of a bad day I was having. If I was having a bad day I would just tell my loved one to not mess with me because I wasn’t in a good mood. Even if I was in a horrible mood I would still never hurt somebody close to me.
Days when I want to break down and cry I think about some of the good things that have happened to me, but sometimes this is hard to do because I get into a sad enough moods that the good times don’t show through the bad so all that I see is a bunch of bad things that will never leave me alone. The bad times seem to show up a lot but I try to hide it from people so that they all think that I am happy and there is not anything wrong with me. The bad times never leave and the good times seem to float away and never come back. The bad times will haunt me forever and it’s just hard to not focus on it.
I have never been normal and I never will be. My life has been a complete nightmare and that has affected me more then you will ever believe. I have always been a bit different then others and was never really sure why but now I understand why and I don’t like it. Its just strange comparing myself to others and seeing the major differences. It just seems like everyone is happy but me. I sit around and pout while others are out having fun and enjoying life. I can’t enjoy life because it just doesn’t seem to life is worth living. Some differences aren’t major some are actually really small. I just don’t seem to understand why I am an insomniac. Most Bi Polar people are not insomniacs but I have been diagnosed an insomniac. I am able to stay awake for up to two weeks and not become tired, when my friends can only stay up for about two days before they are ready to die of exhaustion. For instance, last night I went to Alexis’s house along with my other friend Alex. Alex had spent the night at my house and we couldn’t sleep well. We kept waking up like every thirty minutes or so. So all in all we only got like two or three hours of sleep altogether. When we went over to Alexis’s house we were kind of tired but we soon got over that because we were having so much fun. We went to the mall and rented movies so we spent a lot of the night watching the movies we rented. Next time we looked at the clock it was three thirty so we went upstairs and played a game of life. Alex won so we decided to just lie down and try to sleep. I was not tired and it sucked. I begged them to stay up because I knew I wasn’t going to be able to sleep. They stayed up and we talked and annoyed each other and then between six and seven thirty we went to bed. I fell asleep at almost nine then kept waking up every so often so I only got about four hours of sleep, but yet I am still not tired. I hate being an insomniac because I don’t need sleep but its fun to be able to lie down after a bad day and hope that maybe you will feel better in the morning.
The good thing about being an insomniac is that I don’t have to worry about the nightmares that will come once my eyes are closed. The nightmares never seem to leave me alone. They come every night and they are just horrible and I hate them. In these nightmares I am little again and the monster goes by only one name.. Mom. It’s horrible I never want to feel how I felt when I was younger. Every night the pain comes back for instance if in the nightmare she is hitting me I will feel the pain where she is hitting me. It sounds weird kind of like I’m making it up, which I am totally not. I just wish that I could make the nightmares go away and it seems like the only way to do that is to stop sleeping.
Nights when I am not able to sleep I try to just think about why I am not able to sleep. Most nights I am not able to figure it out but I tire myself out by thinking about it for a while. The nights when I am able to figure it out it’s usually because something happened to me during the day that pissed me off or made me sad or angry. Once I figure out why I can’t sleep I try to do something about it. I try to think about all the good things that I have and all the great people I know like Alex and Alexis. When good things that have happened to me don’t help I think about how much worse my life could be, this usually makes me feel really bad then I just cry myself to sleep. If these things don’t work then I just lie there hoping to fall asleep and stay asleep.
My friends make everything possible, even though I can’t trust them. They have helped me when I was in my sad depressed moods and hated the world. They sit and listen to me complain. I think some of my older friends who I don’t have anymore left because I complained so much so I try not to complain too much to my friends but sometimes I can’t help it. Sometimes once I have started complaining I can’t stop because there is so much to complain about. Like how my dad treats me like crap or how my sister gets new things all the time but I have not been given anything new in a long while. Some of my friends usually have some ideas on how I can just chill out and just ignore all the bad stuff, while some of them just listen to me rant and complain about life. Friends have helped me so much its crazy. Like a few nights ago I hated everyone but Alexis wouldn’t let me hate the world for long. She called me and we talked and she made me laugh about all the stuff that had been happening to her while I had been gone. She made me laugh which helped me for a little bit. When I get really depressed I really need sleep and I knew that without somebody near me I wasn’t going to be able to get to sleep. She helped by talking to me while I fell asleep because if there was nobody talking to me I wouldn’t have been able to sleep because it would feel like nobody cared about me and I had no reason to be alive. Alex helps by just listening to me rant and she knows when to just back off and leave me alone. Sometimes I will be talking to her online and I won’t be in a good mood so she asks what’s wrong, when I say nothing she accepts that answer instead of bugging me to try and find out what’s wrong. It’s interesting trying to not rant to my friends while we are out having a good time. I usually only rant when I am
having a bad day and just mad at the world because things are going wrong. Friends have been my miracle and I am extremely glad that I have such great ones.
Once in a while life is just amazing. Life is amazing when I spend time with my friends unless I’m in one of my weird funks where I hate everything and depressed like you wouldn’t believe. When I am with my friends I have so much fun. We could be doing nothing but sitting around and I would still be having the time of my life. It’s strange when I think about how I act around my friends and the way I act around new people. Around new people I am quiet and I don’t want to talk much, but when I am around my friends you can’t get me to shut up. Things happen with me and my friends, we get into fights or mad at each other but we find it hard to stay mad at each other for long. This is the way I would like my dad and sister to be but with my dad we can go about four days without talking to each other.
Life has been hard for me and will probably continue to be hard. Some people will make it easier like friends but then others will make it harder like my dad. This was written during my times of depression and sadness. I did not write this so that people would feel bad for me I wrote this because I am tired of people only seeing my disorders and thinking of me like I am the weirdest person alive. It explains how I feel and maybe people will actually be able to start to understand me once they have read this, if not oh well. This is how I feel about my life about seventy percent of the time, but like I said before friends help a lot