Well Guess What

On my way to expressing myself.
Reasons; No idea. Because it's all bottled up and there's no one I can talk to. Well, there's no one I want to bother al the time. And my thoughts are getting worse and worse.

Today, 3-11-13
Thoughts;
I wish I had a dad. Was looking through photo album. He loved me when I was a baby. WHy did he stop? What's wrong with me?
Who abandons their child?
Everyone.
Everyone has.
History of abandonment.
Dad was a trucker. Always gone. When was back... I don't know. I don't remember.
I remember feeling alone.
Always.
Kids always thought I was strange.
Psycho.
Mom was always there. first memory...
Dad's belt. It left a scar.
Mom was there. Until I got older. She started college. Online. Constantly said she had no time for me.
Said she hated me once. I was 8.
That was terrible.
It was the first time I wanted to kill myself.
At 8 years old.
I was still young enough to want to believe in Santa Clause and fairy tales.
But I wanted to die instead.
I drew pictures about it.
Why didn't anyone help me?
I'm still that way.
Why doesn't anyone care?
Why don't I care?
I'm not worth the trouble.
I wonder what would happen if I did kill myself.

#1 reason for not:
There's no way my family could pay for a funeral.

Is that bad?
Probably.
Maybe I should think about therapy.
But therapy for what?
I can't. That would let on that I'm not okay. People would get involved.
They'd want to change me.
Maybemaybemaybe.

I want to be make believe.
I am scared to live.
They were right.
But I'm stuck here.
What do I actually think I'm going to do with my life?
Nothing.
I'm going to die young.

I feel like I'm staring out of a doorway waiting. But there's no one there.
I feel like I will never be good enough.
I feel like no one will ever want me.

Mom called dad one time to tell him to come get me to live with him.
She was tired of me. She didn't want me anymore.
He didn't want me either.
He never came for me.
She never was sorry for that.

I was never the same.

Neither of my parents wanted me.

I don't want me.

I want to die.

My sister probably hates me.

I hate me.

I want to feel like I belong somewhere.
I want to feel like not everyone hates me.
I want feel real.
I want to feel safe.

I want to know of one reason why I should be alive other than my family can't afford for me to die.

Maybe that's asking a little much.
I suppose it is.
Maybe I should die.
People would be better off.
They wouldn't have to worry about me.
Or deal with me.
Or try to make me feel like I belong.
When it's very obvious that I don't.

Ever