::.achike ketsunoana.:: (gothicotter) wrote,
::.achike ketsunoana.::

It's Just Like Childhood

"You should move on. Stop focusing on this. It happened in your past, so stop letting it affect your life now. Your father is dead."

This is what I've been hearing lately. My boyfriend thinks I let my father control me from his grave.  All of the trauma I reexperienced back in December still is affecting me. I got extremely depressed, like bordering on suicidal. I thought about cutting again & about checking myself into a mental hospital for a while... I haven't had those thoughts in years. 

I tried to going to a therapist, but he said things that made me distrust him, so I haven't gone back. I mostly just push things out of my thoughts now. I don't want to go through all of this again. 

I wish I could just make it go away. I want it to. I wish that my wheel of the year consisted of holidays, not anniversaries that corresponded with my father's suicide, avoiding Father's Day, & the ever dreadfully triggering Christian holidays. I wish I could just make it all go away. 

I don't want any of this in my life. I don't want any of this in my head. I want to be able to be happy & create a good life that doesn't include mental breakdowns & fear of pretty much everything including food. 

My boyfriend notices my anger. He points it out. I don't know what to do about it. It took years before my anger subsided the first time. I don't know how long it will be for it to dwindle this time. 

I wish I could have remained the person I was. This is one of the reasons I hate my job. It's literally killing me. I wish I had more options because I don't see any...

I don't want to end up like my father, with a bullet in my brain from my own gun. But it looks as if my life is spiraling more & more in that direction. 

No one really cares how I feel, at least professionally. They don't care what I write or really say. I could say that I am going to kill myself & really the only response I'd get from my boss is, "Well, just don't be late for your shift." It's amazing how much I don't matter. I would only be missed because the hole left by my blade or bullet would require twelve hour shifts to cover it. At this point, I pretty much hate everything & everyone associated with my job. They don't care. They're such hypocrites. They expect you to care about their stupid, petty problems, but when you need someone to speak to about yours, they just minimize it & tell you to get over it & move on-- "See? I moved on. It doesn't affect me anymore. You should do the same."

I'm sick of this world. I'm sick of this hell. I don't know why I expect anyone to care or anyone to listen. No one does. Ever. 

This is no different than when I was a child. It's still always me who's wrong. 
Tags: thoughts
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