Hello, Bluelight. I am here, once again, to vent. It needs to be done.
Basically, I want to know WHY people are allowed to do fucked up things to me and get away with it. Rape? Oh, it's okay - don't do it again. Attempted murder? Oh, it's okay - you can keep your job and roam free while the case goes up to the D.A., who probably won't even do anything. WHY THE FUCK IS IT NOT LIKE THIS FOR THE REST OF SOCIETY. I swear to you, I have the worst luck ever. And I'm not going to lie, it really makes me jaded. And in the spirit of honesty, because I am a broken person who will never be healed and I might as well just finally fucking accept that, it makes me lose faith in humanity and it confirms what I suspected all along: no one cares. I could be murdered tomorrow and the killer could turn himself in the next day, and they'd just give him a slap on the wrist. You think I'm kidding but I'm really not.
Yes, the rape thing doesn't affect me anymore. I'm long past that. But the fact that I tried to get help for it... and in doing so, I got in trouble instead, slapped with a "false official statement", my rank and pay taken away, lost friends because their superiors told them they weren't allowed to associate with me, and branded a liar by the entire base (it was a small base where everyone knew everyone fml)... THAT bothers me. It still keeps me up at night. I have a lot of rage towards a lot of people. Him... my BnCo... my "friends" that didn't have my back, who could have stepped up and proved I wasn't lying but chose to remain silent... my "friends" that turned on me when I REALLY needed them, even though they knew I was telling the truth, just because their superiors told them not to... did I mention my BnCo?... those are the main ones that keep me up at night, but there are a lot of people. I'm mad at myself too, for even putting myself in that situation. Mostly I shy away from thinking about it, because when I start, I don't stop. I get caught in a loop, and my mind turns to every single person who was responsible for my downfall, one at a time, and I think about how fucked up it all was, and I think about how I spent the next year drinking just to keep myself above water, and it's all downhill from there because my rage keeps building. Until I finally pop a Xanax or whatever other drug is available, or until I finally cry (which doesn't happen as often as I like - it really is a great stress reliever but sometimes it just DOES NOT COME) and I'm exhausted enough to fall asleep.
And now there's this. THIS BITCH almost fucking killed me two weeks ago. I have permanent HEARING LOSS because of it. MEMORY LOSS. CONCUSSION. AGGRAVATED PTSD. Hello, why the fuck is she allowed to roam the streets right now? She didn't get fired from her job (she works for my therapist as an intern and actually has her own psych patients... how sick and twisted is that?) I haven't heard jack shit from the police or my lawyer. I understand it's being treated as an attempted murder case, and needs to go to the D.A., and that could take a while... but I'm starting to think no one is taking this seriously. Why? Because I have yet to be asked to make an official statement. No one has been called up as a "character witness" like the police said, to my knowledge. And I THINK one of my friends... whatever the FUCK that means... or family would have informed me by now if they had. They never even collected any evidence from me, saying they would get it from the hospital (which I don't believe they are actually doing). My lawyer collected evidence, but he's worried about taking the case... not because he's afraid I won't win, but because he's TOO afraid I'll win and she won't be able to pay it. WHAT THE FUCK.
There is no justice in this world. None.
Oh yes, and on top of dealing with all of this, my grandmother is dying. My mom is understandably very stressed out, so I've offered to go watch her for a few hours each day, which I've been doing for the past two weeks. Watching someone I love die right in front of my eyes is not good for my mental well-being right now. One or the other, I could handle on my own. But both of those situations compounded, it's driving me into a wall. Of course, no one knows about this. I'm not going to tell my mom that it's affecting me as much as it is, because she'll tell me I'm being selfish. So I'm not really talking to anyone about it. It's like deja vu. The whole rape situation all over again. Forced to keep a traumatic event locked inside my head, not getting help for it, and it's turning me into someone I'm not. Someone I swore I'd never be again.
Also, I'm being attacked by all sides. I swear it's like every single day, someone says something or does something to me that's really inconsiderate... today, for example... this guy told me he was going to have his girlfriend beat my ass, and then proceeded to hurl every possible insult at me... all the while someone else was texting me similar bullshit. Why? Because I asked him if he could get Xanax. And he said he would, and then flaked. And I told him exactly this: "I'm not hitting you up anymore, this is the second time you've flaked." EXACT WORDS. I'd had no prior beef with this guy, ever, and somehow that warranted threatening me and then insulting me like there was no tomorrow? Not just from him, but from his girlfriend, his family, and his friends too? He had SO many people text me. All because I called him a flake. Double what the fuck.
Do you know how many times I've been told I'm worthless in the past few weeks? I don't know either, because there's too many to count. But it's been a lot. And yeah, you can hold your head high all you want because you know it's not true, but when it comes down to it... when you hear it enough times from enough people, you start to believe it.
If I was a weaker person, I would have offed myself a while ago. But I won't, because I wouldn't do that to my family. A week and a half ago, I was bursting into tears at random intervals from thinking about the fact that I was *thisclose* to not being here on this earth anymore. Now I'm crying at random intervals because I still am. I wish she had killed me. It would have been a painless, unconscious death... and I would have moved on to be free from all of this emotional and mental pain that's so ridiculously strong it actually hurts physically... my heart literally hurts... but I would have finally moved on to be free from all of that once and for all.
Instead, I'm still here dealing with it. I have no hope that it will get better. My life will not get better, ever. It will be a continuous string of fucked up, traumatic events... the cycle will continue the way it has since the day I was born. My brain will continue to adapt to this realization the best way it knows how, which is to shut off. Not care for a while, about anything at all. One day it's going to shut off forever, I'm sure. And then I'll be left by myself, and it will be all my fault, because of this fucked up defense mechanism I have.
I guess it doesn't matter. I have no desire to better my life... meet new people... get married... have kids... nothing. Because what's the point? It all turns to shit in the end, for me anyway. More and more people are proving themselves to be fake... not my real friends... and I don't trust anyone. At all. Anymore. Not even my family.
I'm not going to kill myself, don't worry. I just wonder what the POINT of living really is. I don't think there is one. At least there's peace in the fact that humans aren't immortal... and someday (even if it's 50+ years from now), I'll be gone forever and none of this shit will matter anymore. I can't wait. It's sad, but the only thing I have to look forward to anymore is my own death.
When and how did things get like this? It is truly a cruel and fucked up thing, to be able to want to die but not believe in suicide, and therefore be forced to wait until either... a) someone does it for me, once and for all... or b) nature takes it's course. I am actually jealous of people who are either too weak to deal with life, or strong enough to actually... you know... go through with ending it. Either way, I am not suicidal - never have been and never will be - does the thought cross my mind? Sometimes, yeah. But my immediate response is to feel disgusted and my brain automatically rejects it. And I think that's a really fucked up trait for God (if he exists) to give me, if he also insists on throwing all this shit at me. Cruel and unusual punishment, indeed.
It really has been one thing after another ever since I was born. I already revealed more of the gory details than necessary, so I won't get into the rest of the shit life has flung at me, even as a child. I'll just say I didn't have a childhood at all, that I was forced to grow up too fast, and leave it at that.
Hell, even my birth parents knew I was worthless before I was even born. And if the people who conceived you even feel that way, what hope is there for anyone else?
Exactly.
Life is just sick and twisted. I could go on forever, but at the same time, I have no words. All the better, no one is listening anyway. So, rant over. On paper/internet anyway. I'll never heal from this little revelation, I don't care how much therapy I go through, things are never going to be the same. I am never going to be the same. Then again, I lost myself a long time ago... so I guess that doesn't matter either, does it?
This blog is private by the way. I don't want other Bluelighters to see it. It just feels like... bad form... or a bad example... to let regular users see a mod talking this way. Therefore, it is private, and it will be staying that way unless I regret writing this later and decide to delete it.
Bye for now.
Basically, I want to know WHY people are allowed to do fucked up things to me and get away with it. Rape? Oh, it's okay - don't do it again. Attempted murder? Oh, it's okay - you can keep your job and roam free while the case goes up to the D.A., who probably won't even do anything. WHY THE FUCK IS IT NOT LIKE THIS FOR THE REST OF SOCIETY. I swear to you, I have the worst luck ever. And I'm not going to lie, it really makes me jaded. And in the spirit of honesty, because I am a broken person who will never be healed and I might as well just finally fucking accept that, it makes me lose faith in humanity and it confirms what I suspected all along: no one cares. I could be murdered tomorrow and the killer could turn himself in the next day, and they'd just give him a slap on the wrist. You think I'm kidding but I'm really not.
Yes, the rape thing doesn't affect me anymore. I'm long past that. But the fact that I tried to get help for it... and in doing so, I got in trouble instead, slapped with a "false official statement", my rank and pay taken away, lost friends because their superiors told them they weren't allowed to associate with me, and branded a liar by the entire base (it was a small base where everyone knew everyone fml)... THAT bothers me. It still keeps me up at night. I have a lot of rage towards a lot of people. Him... my BnCo... my "friends" that didn't have my back, who could have stepped up and proved I wasn't lying but chose to remain silent... my "friends" that turned on me when I REALLY needed them, even though they knew I was telling the truth, just because their superiors told them not to... did I mention my BnCo?... those are the main ones that keep me up at night, but there are a lot of people. I'm mad at myself too, for even putting myself in that situation. Mostly I shy away from thinking about it, because when I start, I don't stop. I get caught in a loop, and my mind turns to every single person who was responsible for my downfall, one at a time, and I think about how fucked up it all was, and I think about how I spent the next year drinking just to keep myself above water, and it's all downhill from there because my rage keeps building. Until I finally pop a Xanax or whatever other drug is available, or until I finally cry (which doesn't happen as often as I like - it really is a great stress reliever but sometimes it just DOES NOT COME) and I'm exhausted enough to fall asleep.
And now there's this. THIS BITCH almost fucking killed me two weeks ago. I have permanent HEARING LOSS because of it. MEMORY LOSS. CONCUSSION. AGGRAVATED PTSD. Hello, why the fuck is she allowed to roam the streets right now? She didn't get fired from her job (she works for my therapist as an intern and actually has her own psych patients... how sick and twisted is that?) I haven't heard jack shit from the police or my lawyer. I understand it's being treated as an attempted murder case, and needs to go to the D.A., and that could take a while... but I'm starting to think no one is taking this seriously. Why? Because I have yet to be asked to make an official statement. No one has been called up as a "character witness" like the police said, to my knowledge. And I THINK one of my friends... whatever the FUCK that means... or family would have informed me by now if they had. They never even collected any evidence from me, saying they would get it from the hospital (which I don't believe they are actually doing). My lawyer collected evidence, but he's worried about taking the case... not because he's afraid I won't win, but because he's TOO afraid I'll win and she won't be able to pay it. WHAT THE FUCK.
There is no justice in this world. None.
Oh yes, and on top of dealing with all of this, my grandmother is dying. My mom is understandably very stressed out, so I've offered to go watch her for a few hours each day, which I've been doing for the past two weeks. Watching someone I love die right in front of my eyes is not good for my mental well-being right now. One or the other, I could handle on my own. But both of those situations compounded, it's driving me into a wall. Of course, no one knows about this. I'm not going to tell my mom that it's affecting me as much as it is, because she'll tell me I'm being selfish. So I'm not really talking to anyone about it. It's like deja vu. The whole rape situation all over again. Forced to keep a traumatic event locked inside my head, not getting help for it, and it's turning me into someone I'm not. Someone I swore I'd never be again.
Also, I'm being attacked by all sides. I swear it's like every single day, someone says something or does something to me that's really inconsiderate... today, for example... this guy told me he was going to have his girlfriend beat my ass, and then proceeded to hurl every possible insult at me... all the while someone else was texting me similar bullshit. Why? Because I asked him if he could get Xanax. And he said he would, and then flaked. And I told him exactly this: "I'm not hitting you up anymore, this is the second time you've flaked." EXACT WORDS. I'd had no prior beef with this guy, ever, and somehow that warranted threatening me and then insulting me like there was no tomorrow? Not just from him, but from his girlfriend, his family, and his friends too? He had SO many people text me. All because I called him a flake. Double what the fuck.
Do you know how many times I've been told I'm worthless in the past few weeks? I don't know either, because there's too many to count. But it's been a lot. And yeah, you can hold your head high all you want because you know it's not true, but when it comes down to it... when you hear it enough times from enough people, you start to believe it.
If I was a weaker person, I would have offed myself a while ago. But I won't, because I wouldn't do that to my family. A week and a half ago, I was bursting into tears at random intervals from thinking about the fact that I was *thisclose* to not being here on this earth anymore. Now I'm crying at random intervals because I still am. I wish she had killed me. It would have been a painless, unconscious death... and I would have moved on to be free from all of this emotional and mental pain that's so ridiculously strong it actually hurts physically... my heart literally hurts... but I would have finally moved on to be free from all of that once and for all.
Instead, I'm still here dealing with it. I have no hope that it will get better. My life will not get better, ever. It will be a continuous string of fucked up, traumatic events... the cycle will continue the way it has since the day I was born. My brain will continue to adapt to this realization the best way it knows how, which is to shut off. Not care for a while, about anything at all. One day it's going to shut off forever, I'm sure. And then I'll be left by myself, and it will be all my fault, because of this fucked up defense mechanism I have.
I guess it doesn't matter. I have no desire to better my life... meet new people... get married... have kids... nothing. Because what's the point? It all turns to shit in the end, for me anyway. More and more people are proving themselves to be fake... not my real friends... and I don't trust anyone. At all. Anymore. Not even my family.
I'm not going to kill myself, don't worry. I just wonder what the POINT of living really is. I don't think there is one. At least there's peace in the fact that humans aren't immortal... and someday (even if it's 50+ years from now), I'll be gone forever and none of this shit will matter anymore. I can't wait. It's sad, but the only thing I have to look forward to anymore is my own death.
When and how did things get like this? It is truly a cruel and fucked up thing, to be able to want to die but not believe in suicide, and therefore be forced to wait until either... a) someone does it for me, once and for all... or b) nature takes it's course. I am actually jealous of people who are either too weak to deal with life, or strong enough to actually... you know... go through with ending it. Either way, I am not suicidal - never have been and never will be - does the thought cross my mind? Sometimes, yeah. But my immediate response is to feel disgusted and my brain automatically rejects it. And I think that's a really fucked up trait for God (if he exists) to give me, if he also insists on throwing all this shit at me. Cruel and unusual punishment, indeed.
It really has been one thing after another ever since I was born. I already revealed more of the gory details than necessary, so I won't get into the rest of the shit life has flung at me, even as a child. I'll just say I didn't have a childhood at all, that I was forced to grow up too fast, and leave it at that.
Hell, even my birth parents knew I was worthless before I was even born. And if the people who conceived you even feel that way, what hope is there for anyone else?
Exactly.
Life is just sick and twisted. I could go on forever, but at the same time, I have no words. All the better, no one is listening anyway. So, rant over. On paper/internet anyway. I'll never heal from this little revelation, I don't care how much therapy I go through, things are never going to be the same. I am never going to be the same. Then again, I lost myself a long time ago... so I guess that doesn't matter either, does it?
This blog is private by the way. I don't want other Bluelighters to see it. It just feels like... bad form... or a bad example... to let regular users see a mod talking this way. Therefore, it is private, and it will be staying that way unless I regret writing this later and decide to delete it.
Bye for now.
