All my life I've lived with depression. Of course growing up in the era I did it was something that wasn't addressed at all. I just had to deal with it.
Did the thought of self harm or suicide ever cross my mind. I'd be lying if I said no. I denied it to myself for a long time. I only just recently realized that I do have that urge occasionally.
I was abandoned as a toddler. I lived with a step parent for a while. She was evil. She tried to kill me a number of times. I finally got left with my grandparents at about the age of 3. I only remember bits and pieces of my life before that. And I don't really recall anything before my 5-6 birthday. I remember going to school. I remember having a birthday party for my 6th b-day. Also the day I got a huge burn on my leg when my one cousin pulled me off my dad's motorcycle and my leg got against the hot pipe on the side. Happy birthday with a side of 2nd degree burns. They never did heal right. I can still see the scar occasionally and I'm 55 now.
I grew up knowing I wasn't wanted. The family resented my intrusion into the family. My aunts and uncles were indifferent to me. I was met with a cold shoulder all the time. I was alone in a crowded room. Always over looked always let out. No one would miss me, no one would care. I know that. You just know when you're not wanted. I knew, at all the family gatherings as I sat in the corner of the couch; reading the book I brought along, because I knew they wouldn't include me in any of the things they were doing. I wasn't allowed to play with their toys. I wasn't allowed into their rooms. I was made to wash the celebration plates. No escape, just the puppet that they controlled. All I wanted was to be accepted or die. This good christian family treated me like a slave. An unwanted part of life. Those among the few friends don't know how they treated me. To everyone else they were the ideal Christians. They were such hypocrites. Yet people that know them would swear to you that they are the perfect Christians. To me they were liars and bullies. I no longer believe in anything I was taught in church. I renounce everything to do with any kind of religion. I hate it. I hate everything about it.
At school I was the easy target for the bullies. I was shy, awkward and different looking. I was fat, wore glasses, had out of control curly/frizzy hair. I was the weird one. I liked scifi and nerdy stuff. I was teased for that. I had girl crushes on the popular pop stars at the time. I got teased for that. I was pushed, shoved, tripped, had my hair pulled, brand new sneakers stolen out of my locker. I didn't fit in any group. I wasn't smart, I wasn't into sports, not into much of anything, I was a nothing. A ghost. Only a visible ghost. One that got taunted and teased daily. How many times I wanted to just die.
Maybe I was too sensitive. Maybe I was too naive. Maybe I was so desperate for a friend that I'd do anything to get a friend or supposed friend. Oh sure I had a few people who were nice to me and I'll give them credit for that. But I wish someone would have stood up for me. Someone would take my side. Someone who'd put an arm over my shoulder and say "It's okay, that person is just being a jerk" But no, that never happened.
I'm still very sensitive to things. I'm still a bit naive on some things. I desperately want friends. I don't make them easily. People on the internet don't know me as much as they could because most think I complain and whine too much.
It's only recently that I found out that I've had aspergers all along. That accounted for the awkward weirdness of my youth. Why I try too hard. Why I don't understand things sometimes. I have aspergers and sensory processing disorder. Things are too loud, too fast, too much info too much of the time.
I still feel alone all the time. I still feel like I'd be better off dead sometimes. I even plot it out sometimes. But one thing and only one thing holds me back.
My son.
So yeah suicide could have been me. Who knows it still could. I won't but the thought is always there.
No comments:
Post a Comment