Weak and triggering
I am tired of life. I find it to be empty. I really do. Now I just want to say I feel some burden on me, and I do not feel I can bring it to the end. Honestly, I don't believe in myself.
I am afraid of what I have to do. I live one day at a time. Every day is depressed. I can hardly take a shower once a couple of days. I want to say that I am really weak. I am tired of being a straight soldier. I am not him. I have my own self, and it hurts.
I have recently taken a look at my old pictures, and I have done it to see the difference in my face and body before and after the abuse happened. What did I find? There is little difference. I almost always smile, or have a usual face. This means I have kept my secret hidden almost all the time. Alternatively, I accepted what was done to me and have never taken it as a hard matter. I see a usual face, smile, and I am in company on the many pictures! It's sadly funny. I am so lonely!
During the last ten years I was a good person. The fact is, however, that I am not. I hurt, and every day, starting from the morning, I accept what was done to me. I am tired of this fight against those ghosts.
I am crying, and I recall my last and only therapist; she allowed me to cry, and I cried at the many sessions with her. I would, but I can't force people to listen. I am afraid of being blamed, of laugher, and of misunderstanding.
I am sorry. I am not strong like somebody. I hope I'll be better tomorrow, and I hope I'll hurt even stronger.
I am afraid of what I have to do. I live one day at a time. Every day is depressed. I can hardly take a shower once a couple of days. I want to say that I am really weak. I am tired of being a straight soldier. I am not him. I have my own self, and it hurts.
I have recently taken a look at my old pictures, and I have done it to see the difference in my face and body before and after the abuse happened. What did I find? There is little difference. I almost always smile, or have a usual face. This means I have kept my secret hidden almost all the time. Alternatively, I accepted what was done to me and have never taken it as a hard matter. I see a usual face, smile, and I am in company on the many pictures! It's sadly funny. I am so lonely!
During the last ten years I was a good person. The fact is, however, that I am not. I hurt, and every day, starting from the morning, I accept what was done to me. I am tired of this fight against those ghosts.
I am crying, and I recall my last and only therapist; she allowed me to cry, and I cried at the many sessions with her. I would, but I can't force people to listen. I am afraid of being blamed, of laugher, and of misunderstanding.
I am sorry. I am not strong like somebody. I hope I'll be better tomorrow, and I hope I'll hurt even stronger.