When I was 6, my sister was traumatized by a clown at the birthday party I shared with my one year old brother, just before we moved away from California to Little Rock, AR, where I remember having one friend I used to walk around the military housing with, in ’87.
Then we moved not to Eatonville, that was a high school field trip that confused me. We moved from Little Rock to Jacksonville for just a couple weeks, then to Orlando, some apartments, until Dad, on his paycheck and Mom’s veteran’s disability following her survival of being shot by my Daddy when I was 3.
My baby brain turned it into a nightmare with a cow skull representing death.
They said I was at the babysitter’s, but in my nightmare, Dad and Daddy wrestle for the gun and it goes off…and mom was the one bleeding in the floor.
Daddy died when I was 5, meeting my new Daddy in California when he got home from deployment from Turkey.
I miss my Dad. I’m so glad we made up before he died.
Was it last year or the year before? I’m triggered again, so it feels like it just happened and it was forever ago.
I wish I’d had access to healthcare in my youth. I stopped seeing the dentist at 15 because Dad was working and grieving and I had no one else.
I’ve felt alone most of my life. I’m safe here. Everyone loves me and wants me and protects me and looks out for me here.
Real friends are too easily lost nowadays. They say they love you so much, then tell you you are bad when you are grieving until they trigger the fuck out of me, and then ignore my bad behavior.
They treated me just like the husband and the gf treated my sister of the heart, when I held her in my arms as she sobbed her heart out, feeling just like they’ve made me feel for melting down at their triggering triggered behavior.
Sister of the heart left my baby daddy because he would never be enough.
But now she treats me like they treated her.
Why did I bother talking about my feelings and experiences?
Because I deserve the same love I give.
And she’s the only one even capable of that, but she loves him, and I can’t stomache him anymore. I wish I processed my feelings more healthily when I’m triggered.
Helps when it’s modeled for me, but who cares if I’m too fucking bipolar to turn on sweetheart mode while being attacked for starting, just trying, to communicate how alone I was feeling.
And they all turned on me, predictably.
I finally understand what they mean by attacks, and I’m sorry, but who cares?
How can I ever trust any of them?
I feel betrayed, abandoned, and violated.
I hope they all feel the same and never ever pretend to care about me again.
I feel like an asshole and I wish I’d never fallen for the hero schtick.
I’m no hero.
I just want to be happy and loved, like everyone else.
But to them, I’m evil.
Fuck their hypocrisy and “love.”
Last time I befriend people with alternative values.
Love heals.
This is “discipline” or “tough love.”
Hope they enjoy their peaceful lives without all my “abusive bullying.”
Everybody loses their shit when overwhelmed with stress.
I am not evil for melting down when I’m grieving and you come at me for not appreciating you reaching out to me.
Now I am sobbing. Hurts me not them.
Why do I care about people who prove how little they care about me every fucking time?
It hurts. That’s why we started the stupid group. So I could help, so they could help. But you couldn’t help me because my grief means nothing to you selfish fucks. You wanna find out if curses are real?
I have my Dad’s graveyard dirt and his permission the last time he spoke, verbal permission to hoodoo him if he died, because he would owe it to me for dying.
And I begged him not to die, like I begged you to wake the fuck up and stop hurting ME!
You win.
I lose.
And I don’t want any of you liars
This is not how you show love to someone who has been begging fucking begging for help.
And you kept your opinions to yourselves until you decided I wasn’t worth being nice to anymore.
My Dad is pissed.
Part of me believes you better get right in the head and heart real fast.
Because you guys are Tarah to me now, and Tarah graduated to I owe her an apology.
She tried to warn me. We both tried to warn Niki.
No wonder I went fucking crazy, trying to believe in the goodness of all these self centered people having drama orgies instead of medication and therapy.
And now, here I am, hurting from the stupid orgy, finally learned my lesson.
People who love me, see the best in me and remind me of it.
People who take me for granted don’t talk to me anymore and hopefully never will again. It hurts to much to think people actually care, just to find out in a few short days I loved them, they judged me harshly privately and pretended to love me too my face. Like they did my sis, but me…it triggered, but who cares about my mental illnesses unless I’m just u
Oh who cares. I don’t want to fight. I want to understand! Why won’t they just help instead of being mean until I get mean back? I hate this! I don’t deserve this! I deserve what i deserve…what I gave when it was, when it was asked of me. They hurt me too much this time.
I’ll be fine. I don’t need them. They’re obviously better off without a big baby like me.
I hate crying. It hurts me and they just get to feel proud of themselves for winning by hurting me even more, because someone shamed me for talking about it and I don’t even know I am writing this.
Fuck em.
I love me exactly as I am and I don’t deserve to be treated like this anymore than she did.
Adventures of an Earthborn Alien 