TL;DR: My life sucks, I'm gonna die alone, and I have no one to vent to.
I'm fucked, I am so fucked. Before, I didn't hate women in particular, I hated some women, but now, I hate them as a gender, as a species, as a fucking idea. They anger me so. But I don't want to feel this way, sometimes there will be moments where I fade in and out, and just have these periods of hate running through my veins, my head will hurt, I'll lose sleep, and I'll start acting uncouth, but I don't wanna feel this way. I just wanted to be loved, to be appreciated, to be acknowledged for my existence, for me to wake up, turn to my side, and see the most beautiful thing in the world by my side, as I made her breakfast, her favorite, with coffee or tea. But that can't happen. It will never happen. Do I feel like I'm owed love/sex? No. No one is owed anything. But just imagine the feeling, sitting on a bench, throwing bread at ducks, and singing love songs, on a crisp fall afternoon, where the wind chill starts to nip your nose but not enough to make it sore. I wish, I can only wish.
I want to talk to my therapist, but I can't, she's a woman, first of all. Second of all, she isn't a good one. Third of all, even if I did say this stuff and vent, about my loneliness, my anger, my suicidal tendencies, my attempts, all of that, they'd throw me in the loony bin and have me on more drugs than a Woodstock attendee back in the 60s. I have no place to vent, all the people I used to know back in high school, as some would call it "friends" (I wouldn't consider them that. the moment we graduated I never saw them again.) Anyways. No friends, my mom says she has my back, but if I tell her anything, she'll have a mental breakdown and try to kill herself again, my dad, will probably just give up on me and throw me out the house. So my choices are either, keep my emotions to myself and then become a saint on the site/kill myself, vent to my parents and be responsible for the death of my mom and subsequently kicked out and disowned from my family, or get "actual help" and get thrown in a loony bin, by the way, the crazy house costs money, a LOT of money, money in which I don't have. Being an adult sucks ass. I just wanna be a retarded kid and play Sonic Heroes for the first time again on the Gamecube, I just wanna eat Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwiches and watch Veggietales, no one ever told me this adult shit was ever gonna be so fucking awful. Fuck my life nigga.
I'm fucked, I am so fucked. Before, I didn't hate women in particular, I hated some women, but now, I hate them as a gender, as a species, as a fucking idea. They anger me so. But I don't want to feel this way, sometimes there will be moments where I fade in and out, and just have these periods of hate running through my veins, my head will hurt, I'll lose sleep, and I'll start acting uncouth, but I don't wanna feel this way. I just wanted to be loved, to be appreciated, to be acknowledged for my existence, for me to wake up, turn to my side, and see the most beautiful thing in the world by my side, as I made her breakfast, her favorite, with coffee or tea. But that can't happen. It will never happen. Do I feel like I'm owed love/sex? No. No one is owed anything. But just imagine the feeling, sitting on a bench, throwing bread at ducks, and singing love songs, on a crisp fall afternoon, where the wind chill starts to nip your nose but not enough to make it sore. I wish, I can only wish.
I want to talk to my therapist, but I can't, she's a woman, first of all. Second of all, she isn't a good one. Third of all, even if I did say this stuff and vent, about my loneliness, my anger, my suicidal tendencies, my attempts, all of that, they'd throw me in the loony bin and have me on more drugs than a Woodstock attendee back in the 60s. I have no place to vent, all the people I used to know back in high school, as some would call it "friends" (I wouldn't consider them that. the moment we graduated I never saw them again.) Anyways. No friends, my mom says she has my back, but if I tell her anything, she'll have a mental breakdown and try to kill herself again, my dad, will probably just give up on me and throw me out the house. So my choices are either, keep my emotions to myself and then become a saint on the site/kill myself, vent to my parents and be responsible for the death of my mom and subsequently kicked out and disowned from my family, or get "actual help" and get thrown in a loony bin, by the way, the crazy house costs money, a LOT of money, money in which I don't have. Being an adult sucks ass. I just wanna be a retarded kid and play Sonic Heroes for the first time again on the Gamecube, I just wanna eat Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwiches and watch Veggietales, no one ever told me this adult shit was ever gonna be so fucking awful. Fuck my life nigga.
