My entire life I’ve focused on being kind and empathetic to others. I loved to love people. It never mattered, it really truly honestly doesn’t matter if you’re a good person; you’ll be spat on and treated like a pile of shit no matter what. Or perhaps that’s just me because I’m so utterly worthless. There is no chance in hell that it’s not my fault that the only people I love ended up destroying me entirely. I’ve tried to be good about this. So much therapy, so much fucking therapy so many times every fucking week for years and years. So many self help books. So many convos with “trusted” people. Therapy has only made it worse, made me disgusted with myself. It is so devastatingly clear that I’m irreversibly broken. It is so clear that I’m so fucked up and pathetic that I’m incapable of healing or changing my life for the better. I have no one except my angry and unkind fiancé.

All I want is for this to end. The only thing that brings me any happiness is the idea of no longer being alive. The utter joy of never having to be mistreated by the only people I so desperately love ever again (even if that means I’m no longer alive) I just seriously cannot wait for that emptiness.

I’m not even mad at him/them. In fact I’ve realized that I’m the problem, and my love for him/them drives my need to die. He has shown me that I make his life so much worse, so so so much worse. He acts like he despises me, I know I am an immense burden. It would be so much better for everyone if I disappeared… maybe he can even find a better life for himself and better love, the love I give is never going to be enough.

You will pray you become nothing when you’re already treated as such.