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Posted by on 2012/01/23 under Uncategorized

I am fifteen, female, British, and I am lost. I see everyone else’ thoughts and I see their pain, and I wish it were mine. They all talk about the loss of love, the feeling of rejection; whereas I feel what I think can be the worst type of pain… loss of self.

I don’t mean to downplay anyone’s pain over a loved one, getting dumped can be painful, and maybe it’s because I’m cynical that I don’t understand the hurt of having your significant other do something that hurts you inside. But I do understand the feeling of being unloved, lonely, and just… completely nothing.

I feel like I am nothing, I feel like I’m drifting through life without caring about anything. If I get a bad grade- I don’t give a s***, if I fall out with my friends- I don’t give a s***. It’s like I don’t feel anything anymore, everything inside me is just numb. My friends around me can see this, and they try so hard to just make me smile, and I do, for them. But it’s always forced. And I know they see this, they just sit there and gaze at me blankly, wondering why I’m not like I once was, trying to think of something appropriate to say. Then again, what IS appropriate to say to someone who thinks that their life is meaningless?

I don’t see a bright future for myself, no matter how hard I try I have to face the fact that I’m dumb as s***. That I’ll end up homeless. I can’t see myself even trying to get a job, I can barely leave my house because I’m so afraid. Afraid of what exactly? People. Can’t stand them. Even if I DID have the confidence to act like… normal people, I wouldn’t know what to aspire for. What am I going to be? What do I WANT to be? I don’t know. I’d be too scared to go for it anyway.

This… anxiety I have, this unshakable feeling that comes over me whenever I have to pay for something at the counter of a store, or stand up in front of the class- this anxiety rules my life. I can’t stand this f***ing fear that won’t leave me alone.

So yeah, that’s me. Someone who can barely look in the mirror, with no future prospects or hopes, someone who walks through their day in a zombie-like trace just WAITING to go home and hide in their bedroom for the rest of the night, someone who can feel nothing but FEAR. My bedroom has become my sanctuary, my place of solace- it’s where no one can judge me or hurt me.

I hate being a cynical atheist. I look back on my childhood and I can’t believe how much has changed in the space of a few short years. I believed in and loved God, I had a certain ignorance to people who taunted me, and I was so happy. No matter how many times people would insult me, degrade me, make me feel so small, I would take comfort in God. I didn’t know much about the Christian faith, all I knew was that there was this mystical being looking out for me and loving me no matter what. I was always a lonely child, but there was still that innate happiness within me that kept me going.

I guess it wasn’t bullying that made this depression take over me (though I’m pretty sure bullying is the reason I avoid people), I’m pretty sure THAT has to do with my mum. She’s had a string of abusive boyfriends. When she started to date (when I was around eight or nine) she hadn’t dated before at ALL, but I was happy for her. I wanted to let a father figure into my life, I defied all those movies where the child b****es about having a stepfather, I was ready and willing. I just wanted my mum to be happy, she was so lonely.

She had quite a few short relationships. They always ended. I don’t like to admit it, but it was probably due to my mum. She’s so fiery, she’s had a rough life and she can get extremely angry over little things randomly, and usually takes it out on other people. She’s hot tempered, which didn’t bode well with a few of her boyfriends. Then came along Dave. He seemed nice at first. A little old. Not good looking enough for my mum, but he seemed nice. That was all that mattered. Now my mum snapped at him quite a bit, and he was supportive- for the first few months.

Then one day he just started shouting back. I was about nine at this age, and I would hear them screaming things at each other that made me tense up. They would yell awful things, screaming at the top of their lungs. And I would sit in my bedroom, staring at the walls as they argued. Dave would start blaming the arguments on me, talking to me like I was something he scraped off of his shoe. I was already quite anxious around people, he just increased my fear by blaming everything on me; though my mum would always defend me. Sometimes I wish she didn’t, because that would always cause MORE arguing. Then my mum started getting ill. Really ill. Half of her face became paralysed, and she always ached all over. She says now that it’s Dave’s fault because of the stress he put on her, which I don’t think is too far from the truth. It was then that I grew into the habit of going to sleep around 1-2am in the morning, just going on my laptop or watching T.V. It had quickly become the only thing that made me happy. At weekends I had started staying in bed for half of the day, about 1pm, and I found it hard staying awake at school- finding little energy to stand up.

When the two-three year relationship finally ended, my mum admitted to me that he had hit her towards the end of their relationship, and even strangled her at one point. We moved to a small apartment, and it was fair to say life was pretty miserable at that point, especially now that I was entering upper school.

It wasn’t long, a couple of weeks actually, until I found out that my mum had been seeing someone new. It angered me a little, but I didn’t say anything. In fact, I was just worried that she had moved on so QUICKLY. But I just wanted her to be happy. So then she met Mike. Eventually I met him, he seemed okay, though I could see that his eyes seemed really intense… a little manic, but that was just a feeling in the back of my mind. Our first meeting was a little awkward and we didn’t talk much. However I assumed we would grow out of it. We didn’t, this awkward relationship developed where neither of us spoke to each other, ever.

We moved into his house and by then, my mum seemed very happy, so I didn’t care about my own problems. But then Mike started shouting at my mum. It was even crazier than Dave, he sounded deranged half the time. I first thought that he was just a little reserved, but I quickly found out that he wasn’t reserved. He was just ANGRY. All. The. Time. Whenever he spoke to me it would be in a clipped, sharp tone. I was just a waste of space in the house, so my bedroom became something of a safe haven for me.

Then he started hitting my mum, dragging her around the living room, picking her up by her throat and then literally KICKING her out of the house. She would ALWAYS argue back, my mum is too proud, and she would always end up sobbing and Mike would continue shouting abuse at her. Whenever one of their arguments ended, she would always say to me ‘he’s not as bad as Dave. Dave was MAD’. I don’t understand how she thinks that I’m naive enough to believe that, or if she genuinely believes that he’s better than Dave. Mike is MUCH more abusive, physically AND emotionally. The problem is he’s EQUALLY as proud as my mum, so they always butt heads and they won’t apologize to each other until the next day. Even then they both carry grudges. I know he’d never hit me, if he did my mum would be off (though sometimes I’m not even sure of THAT. Her relentless strength has been broken down so much.) so there’s no child abuse going on. Mentally I think it’s taking a toll, but hey, I’m not the one getting battered. I’m the one hiding in my bedroom like a coward, even if my mum is screaming for me, I’ll still hide. I’m a coward, I’m fifteen and I can’t rush in to defend her like a normal person would. I’m too afraid that we’ll both end up getting battered, and if he goes too far then there’ll be no one there to call the police to stop him.

We still live with him though. In fact, they’re getting married. Yay. He’s just… a beast. An absolute beast. He’s so overloaded with stress that he takes it out on US all the time. I feel so guilty… just sitting here, not really feeling anything as they scream at each other at any random time over the littlest things. My mum’s irrational and constant nagging triggers his INSANE rage, and then the next day they’ll go back to watching movies on the couch, saying soppy things and cracking jokes, staring at me wearily as if I’m a stranger in their home whenever I walk past them to get to the kitchen. It would just be easier if I could stay in bed all day, pull a John Lennon. I literally give no f***s anymore, life would be far more happier for me if I just stayed close to immobile for most of the time. That’s what life has become for me now: a coma-like life.

Oh, and for anyone reading this (if they bothered to read this far about a random stranger’s thoughts) then please note: No, I will not ‘find my faith again’. I may take comfort in the thought of God like I once did but I will never have ANYTHING to do with the Bible. I’m bisexual, yeah I like girls too and I slowly realized as I grew up just how hateful the Bible really is. I have to face the fact that I still can’t be legally married to a girl, I have to watch as people around me at school go on about how being gay is wrong- BECAUSE of the Bible. So if I ever find my faith again, it will be faith in what I WANT to believe in, not a devoted following to the church.

Just wanted to get that clear, people have said to me before on sites like this that all I needed was to find the ‘right way’ again. Okay. Whatever.

Anyway, I doubt that anyone will reply to this or even READ through this. Again, whatever. That’s cool, I just needed a place to vent my feelings, it’s easier to anonymously talk on the internet to people I’ve never met/will probably never meet than to people in my life.

I wish I could be one of those ‘count your blessing’ people, the ‘I don’t hate anyone’ girl, instead of the empty, unintelligent, passive, and unremarkable person I find myself to be.

Thanks for reading. If anyone did.

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