I have been on prozac for a few days now. it’s been a strange experience. i just feel sick all the time. i feel as if i am being punished for something which i haven’t caused, which is the same as usual tbh.
i am angry because i shouldn’t have to need to use medication to cope. my family are not dead,i have a family, they should be supporting me. instead they chose to look the other way and support themselves.
if your own family will not look out for you and care for you, who will?
i think this is the biggest betrayal i will have to come to terms with in my life. bigger than child abuse, bigger than the experiences surrounding me as i grew up. the fact that my own mother could not look past her own selfishness to help her own daughter after she was told about her child’s abuse. the fact that my own mother rather i was made homeless than swallow her pride and do her duty as a parent. the fact that my uncle assisted her in this.
the fact that every person i ever trusted has stabbed me in the back and i’ve been left to fend for myself.
i don’t know why this is. or why this has happened to me. but i will get through it i guess.
it’s just hurtful
this hurts more than any pain or any heartbreak i have experienced.
I spent 2 hours last night crying.
I cried because i realised that my mother was more concerned with ensuring she was able to use me to take money out of my bank account to give to her, than she was about my own mental wellbeing.
Because she was more concerned with keeping up appearances with her friends than making sure her own daughter was sane
That her own pride came before anybody else’s sanity or health
I cried because i thought if my own mother doesn’t love or care for me then why would any body else?
I cried because my mother and my uncle think I am a joke. That I’m a child who is incapable of thinking for herself.
Because they find it funny to manipulate me and belittle me and laugh at my attempts to be independent.
Because I’m stupid.
I woke up feeling sick. i don;’t know why. i feel ashamed. i want to curl up in a ball in the dark and weep. i feel the disgust seeping all over myself. maybe i do really hate myself but i don’t know why. maybe it’s because my own flesh and blood can’t stand the sight of me. why? i don’t know. i don’t know what i did to make thewm despise me so much
Maybe one day someone will let me know. until then i guess i have to try and forget it.
It’s the kind of pain that slowly drives you mad. there’s always the critical voice in my head sthat doesn’t disappear.
I can’t take away something that has become such an ingrained part of me.