Tag Archive | abuse

Brother of my heart.

I’m still writing poetry about you, brother of my heart. One of the many thing I never told you that I did. I love you and I always will, but I hope you burn in hell you abusive bastard.

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Is this hell?

CN: christianity, abuse, trans stuff

Like, sometimes I wonder if I’m in hell. See, one of the things I was taught, or should I say indoctrinated into, is that God’s presence is absent in hell. And I’m an atheist. I don’t believe in gods. But maybe that’s because they really don’t exist on this plane of existence and I’m being punished. I mean, like, why else would I have to go thru the dysphoria, intense chronic pain, and all the rest. Sometimes I wonder if all the abuse is just background that’s inflicted upon me as another form of torture.

So, I don’t actually believe this is the case. I’m not that narcissistic. But yeah, I got some mental issues and hang ups left from when I was Catholic. That shit is toxic, y’all.

His message

tw: abuse

 

He sent me a message
My abuser, that is
He wrote me a missive
With no acknowledgement of how we ended
Of how I feared for my life
As he threatened to bash me with that long metal pole.

He wrote me a question
Not the one I would answer
About what went wrong
And the hurts that were caused

He asked me a question
Seeking reentry
To something denied him
This life and mind now out of his grasp

Yet still I miss him
And desire to answer
Giving vivid descriptions
Of my life and my loves

A part of me hates him
Wants to tell him he hurt me
And to leave me alone

I write him no answers
Allowing no access
To my heart and my mind

He wrote me a letter

And I cried while she held me.

And yet.

Tw: abuse, self-harm, suicide

Sometimes I want to hurt myself

Just to feel anything

Sometimes I want to hurt myself

To externalize the pain

 

I know the difference between teasing and mocking

Who drew this target on me anyway?

Was it my mom terrorizing me?

Was it the Church teaching me I was worthless?

Was it my entire school’s ostracism?

It wasn’t my first friend, who choked me.

It wasn’t the other who threatened me.

They came later, with a target already drawn.

 

Sometimes I want to kill myself.

I wonder how I haven’t done it yet.

My entire life I’ve been mocked.

Friends, coworkers, those in power above.

Sometimes I want to die

Self hatred never knocks

And then I remember the few

Who’ve held my tenderness

Who’ve been worthy of my trust

And I cry

So few have

April first, no joking matter

1. this isn’t a joke or a prank

2. I fucking hate april fools day.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7. It’s never “just a joke.”

Thank you for your time.

old memories

content note: self harm, depression, trauma, abuse

It’s been a bad night. I haven’t been able to get anything done. I’ve been plagued by old memories best forgotten, and it’s stirring up all the old insecurities. That if anyone ever gets to know me, they will hate me.

And yet, I have that one bright shining ray of hope pulling me through. A reason to be happy. But I still get the blues. and I’m not depressed so much as remembering and reliving trauma. I have no idea what triggered this. But I hate it and I wish it would go away.

At times like this in the past, I would give in to self destructive cycles. Drinking, or hurting myself in some other way. Pushing people who cared about me away, before they could hurt me. I’ve gotten better about that. I can catch myself.  Stop the cycle before it starts.

But why do these things that happened to me still hurt so goddamn much? Why do I feel like it’s all my fault?

It’s been a bad night.