Nick Drake sings "Success can be gained by at too great a cost" and for a brief moment reflecting upon my recent months this seemed liked a true observation: "things you wished to achieve are so intertwined with memories of people who failed you when they should have not, who harmed you with no injustice on your side on them, and all the other fucked up mess ..."
But that's not true. I relied on my own love for a few individuals – thank God – without any reciprocity whatnot, and that can make you pay whatever cost success may have, but then you put well beyond any other individual's capacity emotional and psychological efforts behind your actions, things nobody sees, nobody understands, and even if you were to talk about nobody would wish to hear word of it, but at the end you fail. You fail something that people without any much effort are successful at.
I'm happy that Ashley has found her version of content in life:
I stopped trying to even walk in that direction other than in my daydreams since I was like really young; like since I was a toddler.
These fucking assholes call themselves "parents" and wonder why aren't you nice to them?
What the fuck? You had sex not me! Is it my fault.
Though running into the label "borderline" was kind of blessing as it allowed my brain to discover new terminologies and understanding for things like this – thank God – but the idea of "suicide" and "being suicidal" is a joke compared to my mental state. I have been so beyond "suicide" that it is just one of those overdue tasks on my todo list. Yes, there is really the task, the date, the update and a lot of other things about how, when and why to kill myself. I have a "very cool" todo list!
Two fucking assholes have sex, and then they ruin your life over and over, whenever you had a chance to rely on them for support, protection – one of them didn't even care not to be abusive cuz you're weak, she rather help herself whenever you're not psychologically strong enough to protect yourself. Now I'm the ungrateful child.
Go fuck yourself.
You know, failing is not really something that is always within your control and I don't want to go and discuss when and where it was their failure and when they themselves didn't come from a good childhood but at least you should have a grain of dignity to accept the consequences of when you have failed.
You know, he is like "what do you do with your time?"
You really fucking want to know? Cuz, like if I'm not telling you something it is because I'm taking advantage of your support behind your back? That's really your fucking opinion of me!
Don't you fucking one second think, maybe there is something that if you know it's going to make things even harder between us?
Let's fucking do it; Selena Gomez has this amazing song that describes certain aspects of my days word for word:
But you know, it's not a [...] or the [...] that you fantasy about my relationship with them; The guy that I can't stop thinking about is the guy you called "friend" and raped me. Happy now?
It's not just being raped and PTSD from childhood, and let's forget other instances – not because I can't talk about them, but because the moment I talked about them and you didn't behave properly, you're gonna be in big trouble. Yes, as long as you don't know something and you don't bother yourself about it, you can always say "oh, I never knew that ..." but the moment that excuse is gone and you still act the same way: I'm the one who is going to say: "how can you not shame yourself for thinking of yourself as a parent?" So, let's not get there. Because then it is too late for anything, then I want to see you being punished and in pain. The problem with "borderline" is that they're always in pain, in existential pain, so it's gonna be pretty tough to redo that on you!
I forgot what I wanted to say: Yeah, it's not just being raped and PTSD from childhood, it's this awareness that I've grown-up sharing the same biological feature as the man who raped me. You know, unlike girls who were raped and end up "lying about their past" – as the terminology in Selena's songs goes – by being "lesbian": cutting men and everything men-erotic related out of their lives.
I fucking can't, do you understand me? Do you understand I have no escape from being reminded of the guys and (the woman) I'm trying to not think about?
Can you one moment feel that?
If your answer is "psychotherapy" my answer is "go fuck yourself."
At least after the #MeToo movement, we can talk about certain things: you know, people go to therapy of sexual harassment at the workplace by their boss while they were adults and some have had erotic experiences.
"Psychotherapy" and "childhood rape victim" is like giving "aspirin" to a cancer patient. Good luck with seeing the progress in that patient. You know what, if the patient doesn't want to commit to your prescription and rather work on figuring out a cure on his or her own, call them "lazy", "liar", etc. etc. It's not like you ever share any piece of their pain. You just need to shame the patient and face yourself in front of other people. It really does the job.