Monday October 17th 2016. 2:27 am
I’ve cried my eyes out to God, because he’s the only one I can talk to. I just hope he’s listening.
I’m hurting. I’m letting myself hurt like I’ve never hurt. I need all this pain gone.
See, holding stuff in isn’t healthy, you’ll only end up exploding.
I’ll be 18 in about um, a while. And my life is crashing to pieces.
So, I’ll lay it all down. I’ll tell you what I told God, in no particular order of hurt
I hate the fact that I’m hurting like this, because I don’t like emotions. They don’t feel natural. I was taught to be okay and be strong. That only babies and weaklings cry. Well now I know that’s a lie.
I hate the fact that I’m all my parents have. There’s no one else to be there for me. They’re lovely but they never understand. There’s so much I wished could tell them, but it would break their hearts.
I hate the fact that I’ve been body shamed my whole life. The high school years were hell. How the boys would joke that my husband would have to fuck a stick on his wedding night. That hurt guys, I laughed, but it hurt. They jokes of me being blown away by the wind. Ouch. I know I don’t have gigantic tits but hey, they’re tits. The jokes about my funny walk. You know, in my head I was a queen floating on air, then you shattered the illusion, now I still feel weird as fuck walking down the damn street. Thanks.
I hate the fact that my face was constantly under scrutiny. Breakouts are normal during puberty and even after you dicks. I have a pimple, wanna lick it?
I hate that the people I was friends with growing up are no longer in my life. But that’s a good thing. Because… I always hated that they made me feel inferior. Plus they were older and curvier, so much to be compared to. Till this day when we meet all they ask about Is my weight. Look, fast metabolism, I poop fast.
I hate that I could never tell my parents about the teasing. When I tried I was told to be strong and grow up. I hate that there was so much expectation, I just wanted to be a child, not a prodigy. And, I hate that they didn’t know I would stay in bed, not because I was lazy, but because the pain I felt was becoming physical. All I got was discipline.
I hate that I was foolish enough to think I could find this love and understanding in the men who were crazy enough to find me attractive. I never did. Two of them violated me. The first guy was blood, the next was the first person I told about it, well I shouldn’t have trusted that fool. I never told the folks.
I hate that I never picked my exposure to pornography. I’ll never have the choice to be the girl who hasn’t seen porn, so sad 😦 *sniffs*.
I hate that every “orgasm” I’ve ever had has left me feeling empty and dirty.
I hate that I had to build a wall around my heart to shield myself from anymore hurt. The sarcasm and bluntness is all a defense mechanism.
I hate I left high school with too little friends. See, I couldn’t even trust the good people because of my walls.
I hate that I thought, I promised myself college would be better. I hate the fact that I’ve never been in a serious relationship. Most if the time I’m part of the problem. I can’t commit. I’m a little whore. I always get bored.
I hate that there’s boys who lie that they’ve gotten down with me. You LYING WHORE. I’ve never slept with anyone. Okay fine, we fooled around, you saw my titsL. But I’ve never been able to sleep with anyone. A part of me want to wait for someone special. I’m more of an emotional where.
I hate that I’ve failed to live through college, being so “busy with church”
I hate that my choices are still based on expectations and the unwillingness to disappoint. Well, here it goes. I’M REALLY NOT FINE. I hate that I push people way before they can leave because see, everybody always leave. I miss my cousins.
I hate that most of the people that hurt me right now are in the church. You’re a bunch of self-righteous assholes you know. Myself included of course. \most of your names have the letter S in them somewhere. Hehe. In case you’re lost, I mean 3C PEARSON. Glad we cleared that up. I don’t like the supposedly 2 hour cells that always end up being longer…..so boring….can’t focus. And the sexism. And the guilt you refuse to let go of and place on others. Let it go. God forgives you for your mistakes, he’s clothed you in His righteousness. Now I’m not saying be a loose cannon but really don’t be a try hard self-righteous douche. Ugh and the endless meetings and conferences.
I hate that I can’t write like I want to. I’m scared.
I hate that I never try because I’m sacred of failing and getting hurt.
I hate that I’m scared the friends I have now will one day spread their wings and fly off without me .L I know I can be a temperamental twit. But I love you so much. Belle Ame is just afraid. I can’t believe I wrote all this :O
*I’ll edit this when the sun comes up and I’m thinking straight*
20 October 2016
And I hate that I’ve never been in love, even more that I feel pressure from society, that I’m 17 and never had real love.
I hate that nothing in this world will ever fill this void, nothing material that is.
I’ll just leave it the way it is. Some guy or girl in some movie said the internet is written in ink. I won’t erase ink, mistakes and all.