Share one of your life's stories:

When writing your story, please use correct spelling and grammar. Please use a capital I rather than a lower i, and use apostrophes correctly. Such as I'm, don't, can't.

Why should I care what my grandfather says?

Before saying anything else, I’d like to apologize for the abysmal quality of my English and for wasting your time with my whining about my so-called problems, whilst they are the smallest this world has ever seen. I’d also like to add that I am not sure whether I should put a trigger warning on this, and if I should which one(s). I am so sorry, and should I be wrong in this or should anyone be offended by my toddlers whining, feel free to kick me out of the group.

I wanted to share this here since I do not know where else I can do it. It doesn’t come easy to me to put this into words, so if I’m starting to repeat myself or start talking gibberish, please bear with me. Or don’t, you wouldn’t be the first to give up on me.

The thing is that if I’m completely honest, I’m really not doing okay, despite of what I tell people all the time. And we’ve come to a point where I cannot share how I really feel anymore, despite what my grandfather said after my last attempt at suicide, since whenever I tried to talk to him about it, he got angry and told me that if I really want to be happy, I can be happy and that if I don’t feel well, I should just stop attending university (I’m in my first year, right now.). And truth be told, quitting uni is no option for me since I did ASO in high school, which means I have literally no skills to go working right away. No, ASO means you have to go to uni, or be a no one.

And why should I care what my grandfather says, you might wonder. Well, he is the one who raises me. My “parents” never wanted and/or loved me. For those who might think this is a melodramatic claim from a young adult: my mother was an Albanian prostitute who lied about being infertile, so one of her ‘costumers’ would get her pregnant and, so she could try to force the unfortunate fellow to marry her and so get the Belgian nationality. As soon as she got her Belgian ID, she wanted an abortion. But then one of her other customers, whom she had told he was my biological father to be, for some reason, didn’t let her. Not that he ever played any role in my life afterwards, but that’s what being a parent means to him obviously. ‘My’ father (the ex-husband of my mother) never liked me, nor accepted me as one of his children. In his eyes, I was nothing but a tool to make his life impossible. He has shown that in many different ways over the years: his constant shouting sessions, him always belittling everything I ever did, him openly saying he loved my brothers and in the same breath adding that I didn’t matter to him, him ignoring me for years, him “forgetting my name”, him telling people he had one daughter and pointing at my step-sister, him kicking me out multiple times and him trying to strangle me with his bare hands when I was nine. As to the why, your guess is as good as mine. My mother on the other hand, just gave me straight to my grandfather to be raised. Illegally, of course, so she could keep getting alimentation money from my dad, child allowance and study grant, whilst paying nothing for me. To her I was a good-for-nothing-but-money. To this day I still have to hear one nice word from her, which probably won’t happen since she told me ‘she now has a child she loves’ (referring to my little sister), when I was 12. So yeah, my grandfather matters, A LOT. He’s the only parental figure I have.

So yeah, I have had some small issues with my parents, but -as I’ve been told enough – it’s not like they (the problems) are bad. Jeez, there are children being abused out there. There are children who’re being hit and threatened as I type this and still I’m acting as if I have troubles. Egocentrically, I know. And I hate myself for it.

The “real” problem is that I am just not doing well. I am, and have always been, a useless, hideous, good-for-nothing waste of space, who has the size of an elephant and with the likeability of dried mud. People dislike me, which is no surprise seeing how I couldn’t even trick my parents into even moderately liking and/or tolerating me, most of all those I really want to get to know or look up to. I am just a poor excuse of a human being.

And these last week’s things have been going down (even more than the past 10-12 years, in which I’ve been thinking about suicide a lot, heck, I’ve tried to kill myself 7 times in the past 3 years. Yes, I suck at everything. Even at dying.); I just can’t cope with things anymore. I’ve had no motivation to get up or do stuff, am actively cutting people out of my life for their own sakes (an old friend of mine has found joy in life now we don’t have any contact anymore), whilst I’m feeling so alone. I desperately want to get help, but can’t get the words over my lips, so just smile, and tell everyone I’m fine. I can’t focus on anything, have no sleep pattern anymore whatsoever (I manage to get 2 hours of sleep a night, even if I take 10 sleeping pills), I just feel like shit and think about suicide all the time. And there would be no one to care about it. I just feel like giving up on everything and cry, since there doesn’t seem to be anything else I am capable of.
I’m so so sorry for the rant, please forgive me.

Follow by Email
Facebook
Google+
http://www.sharemylife.info/9865
Twitter
LinkedIn

Leave an anonymous comment