I am sorry to report but I am in fact still alive

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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

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@prettyrecklessmodeon
I am sorry to report but I am in fact still alive
Pov: you've wasted another year being the same loser after telling yourself this year would be different
Did I learn to stay quiet because it was safer, or because no one ever listened?
I wonder how beautiful life must be when you don't have trust issues, depression, mood swings, overthinking, paranoia, anxiety, detachment, isolation or fear.
Why isn't the suffocation from depression enough to kill me?
can’t emphasize enough how when you grew up in a toxic environment, being in the room with someone who’s angry or frustrated - even if it has nothing to do with you - is absolutely terrifying cuz you’ve been 1000% conditioned to assume frustration = all hell is going to break lose and be aimed directly at you
grieving the version of myself I was never allowed to be
"So it's that your parents were rude to you" well uh ma'am like no they denied any of my rights to feelings of love, joy, sadness and anger when it was inconvenient for them and convinced me that I was inadequate and insane and the most normal action on my part would always be to remain silent and do what they want from me because I am defective. And so did everyone around after, like. I mean. And then they were mad anyway because I don't initiative. Uh. Not rude, no, they were pretty fucking cruel with that small thing that I was I think. I'm sorry.
I am so so tired of having the compassion for everyone else that they don't have for me
You're having a bad day? Let me pause my whole life so I can help you with that. Let me give you that book that is so so special to me knowing I won't be getting it back. Let me play along with your cruel jokes, tend to your wounds and carry you across the finish line
I'm having a bad day and I must apologize for feeling feelings in your direction I guess I should have tried harder but I'll see you next time you need something
as a person with comorbid cptsd and autism, the memories of my childhood all have one common thread: shame and humiliation.
I might not remember but my body does
Having CPTSD is so embarrassing. People with PTSD are like, “I fought in a war. I held my best friend as I saw the light leave his eyes. How about you?”
“My mom was mean to me when I was little…”
So fucking close to relapsing
When I tried to end my life, I didn't tell anyone. No one knew. Not one single person. It's not fair or even true to say that those that attempt to end their lives are seeking attention, let alone those who achieve their goal. They are seeking love, empathy, inclusion, safety...and they can't find it anymore. Just like those who tell everyone they are suicidal, can't take it anymore, and will end their life. It's not what's important at that point, it's not constructive or helpful. They are just two different ways of dealing with such enormous pain and hopelessness.
I don't even remember who I used to be.