Afraid of the Scars

I don’t know how to live or why I should.

I feel like I’m losing my mind. Everything is crashing down on me all at once. I just want to forget. I just want to go back to my senior year of high school and redo the last four years of my life. Or go back to 1989 and punch my mom in the stomach.

It would be so much better for everyone if I just didn’t exist. People need me to be a certain way, a certain type of person, and it is tearing me limb from limb. I’m tired of lying and holding things in and being nice instead of just screaming like I want to. I’m tired of her biting my head off, of both of them blaming me because God fucking damn it, it is always my fault.

I’m tired of feeling like I don’t matter, like other people deserve better from me and I deserve whatever I get from them. I’m tired of trying, I just want to give up and not care anymore. I wish I was more like my brother because yeah, he represses stuff, but a lot of the time, he legitimately just doesn’t give a shit.

I just need a release. It’s times like these I wish I could cut myself. I’m not afraid of the pain, I’m afraid of the scars. Which is true in more ways than one.

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About wewerethesame

Pagan. Writer. Owner of cats. View all posts by wewerethesame

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