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- Locked due to inactivity on Jul 17, '22 3:54am
Thread Topic: .
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I can't be honest with anyone half the time, even myself. But pretending I'm doing something to help myself doesn't do anything for me. At this point, there is no changing. I have no perseverance.
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I want to tell her, I really do, but she might get mad at me, and I don't do well when someone's mad at me.
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It feels good to cry again, in a weird way. In another weird way, I also want to go to my parents. I guess everything in my life goes back to them. Whenever I'm upset, sometimes I just want to go to their house. Maybe it's because they bring me a bittersweet pain.
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I mean, it hurts. It hurts a lot. But...it's like a slow burn. And I can't seem to get enough of it. I mean, the game we play is purely mental. It makes it both bearable and unbearable. Maybe I would be more eager to get myself out of those situations if it wasn't purely mental. But it is, and that's what makes it so addictive. It's like gambling with your sanity instead of money.
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I mean, usually I end up losing. Almost always. But the pain comes with rewards. They buy us takeout a lot, but the biggest reward is love. Knowing that I'm their favorite, it makes the pain worth it. Getting a title like that, it comes with hard work. I know what I'm saying is unhealthy and definitely shows I should probably not be around them, but at this point, I don't care.
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This is all part of the cycle. I'll be crying about how much it hurts me and how I can't bare it in no time. But right now, that doesn't matter. I just want to run to them and take my place.
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Of course, the one time I feel I need to go shes coming here. Of course.
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Why does this have to happen to me
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Why does life hate me so much? Makes me want to go, and then just takes away that possibility?
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I feel so horrible. I'm trapped inside this house and I just wanted a change in scenery and now I can't. It sounds really dumb but I really needed this.
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I know it's so dumb but I can't stop crying
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Idk, that conversation we had and she asked me if it had to do with how I saw myself, I almost started crying because, I realize it does have to do with it. I always forgive people no matter what they do to me because I don't see myself as worthy enough to say I don't forgive them.
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Because I'm such a bad person, that I have no right to not forgive anyone. I've always felt like this, ever since I was a little kid. I always said the reason my parents became addicts was because I was such a bad child and they didn't know how to cope with me any other way.
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And I've always held that guilt with me, even if what I thought wasn't true. That I'm the one who made this happen. I'm the one who turned them that way. I made life harder for me and my brothers by being a rotten kid. And sometimes, I can't accept it any other way. That everything is my fault. My grandma is depressed because I was such a bad teenager that it made her that way.
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The world would be a better place without me. I mean, they'd all get over it eventually. The sun will still shine when I'm gone. The days will continue. The world will not end if I'm not in it.
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