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I never expected to live past the age of 27.
Not bravado, just facts. When you grow up like I did, with as much pain and torment as I did, you don& #39;t have any hope. I don& #39;t know what was special about "27," why that was the age I& #39;d decided on, but that was it.
Not bravado, just facts. When you grow up like I did, with as much pain and torment as I did, you don& #39;t have any hope. I don& #39;t know what was special about "27," why that was the age I& #39;d decided on, but that was it.
So, as that year approached, I panicked and got more and more reckless, more and more careless. I was a lot of "fun" back then.
If you knew me, you probably thought I was a lot happier then. But that& #39;s the funny thing about trauma. It looks different from a distance.
If you knew me, you probably thought I was a lot happier then. But that& #39;s the funny thing about trauma. It looks different from a distance.
I didn& #39;t know it then, but #PTSD was ruling my life. I wasn& #39;t sleeping because I was in constant flashbacks, not because I had insomnia. But I never remembered the dreams because I dissociated from the experiences.
Furry saved my life.
Furry saved my life.
I had found, at 17, an amazing, accepting community that was expressive and inclusive. And in my 20s, it allowed me to burn through a really terrible self-destructive phase in a safe place with people around me who cared about me, something I will forever be grateful for.
But I wasn& #39;t supposed to survive, remember?
27.
That was it. I was done. Marked. Doomed. Fated for death.
Problem is, it never happened. And now I& #39;m on "borrowed time." I talk about this concept with my therapist a lot, and she hates it, haha.
27.
That was it. I was done. Marked. Doomed. Fated for death.
Problem is, it never happened. And now I& #39;m on "borrowed time." I talk about this concept with my therapist a lot, and she hates it, haha.
But I don& #39;t have …value? …purpose?
That& #39;s my curse. Intellectually, I know all the tricks, I know all the CBT skills, I understand the exercises. And I know that I& #39;m a good person, compassionate, and kind.
But as to whether I have worth or not… I don& #39;t see it.
That& #39;s my curse. Intellectually, I know all the tricks, I know all the CBT skills, I understand the exercises. And I know that I& #39;m a good person, compassionate, and kind.
But as to whether I have worth or not… I don& #39;t see it.
And no amount of medication or training or talk therapy is going to, it seems, change that. Maybe that& #39;s why I& #39;m so alone? Because who wants to be with the guy who hates himself so fundamentally that he can& #39;t be tricked into admitting he has value?
I& #39;m not going into the gory details here, but… 18 years. It was 18 years of hell.
And that has a lasting impact on who you are and how you are. What you are. Like I said, I *know* intellectually all the things, the truths about what should have happened, what shouldn& #39;t have happened. What was right & wrong. I *know* I have "value." But I don& #39;t FEEL it inside.
Because I guess, at the end of the day, I want someone to love and someone who will love me back in a way that I have never had. And that& #39;s what I& #39;m lacking. But, again, who wants to be with the guy who fundamentally hates himself? …Answer: No one.
So I& #39;m sitting here on my couch, listening to albums about love stories that defy cosmic forces of life and death, waxing poetic about how I should be a decade in the ground because I& #39;m hurting… finding moments of solidarity in lyrics that don& #39;t really mean anything.
Oh, the irony of quoting Tyler Durden in this thread. lol
But… What if I never had anything to lose after all?
But… What if I never had anything to lose after all?
Anyway, goodnight, Moon.
