You ever silently hope you get hit by a car while walking down the street so you don’t have to go the place you’re walking to?
Idk maybe I’m just dramatic.
Peace someday.
Submitted 3 months ago by cm0002@lemmy.world to [deleted]
https://lemmy.ml/pictrs/image/3f0aaa3e-ca0f-4672-8d77-1f165dd2997d.jpeg
Comments
JusticeForPorygon@lemmy.blahaj.zone 3 months ago
mortalic@lemmy.world 3 months ago
Revolt
batdad90@lemmy.world 3 months ago
Every misfortune makes you stronger.
andros_rex@lemmy.world 3 months ago
Chronic suicidality is tons of fun. Impossible to get treatment for, because if you say it wrong you get to lose all of your rights and get shoved in a not-prison cell.
puppycat@lemmy.blahaj.zone 3 months ago
fuck. i haven’t been not suicidal since… idk, since i figured out suicide is a thing that is possible?
andros_rex@lemmy.world 3 months ago
Like, the world clearly doesn’t want me to exist. Growing up a gender non conforming “weird” probably autistic kid, my mother is legitimately a monster along the lines of Gypsy Rose’s mother. I attempted multiple times as a teenager because I kept hoping someone would notice and take me away.
An abusive marriage, where near the end I was my husbands “slave” and had to sleep on the floor while he fucked teenagers. I did sex work to earn my bachelors degree in a career field with high need - but then they made it impossible to teach and be trans.
But if I say - I’d rather just be dead than try to hope the next thirty years won’t be more hell - the answer is to shove me in a cell (with literal shit on the floor and “I am a bad mother” scrawled on the walls in crayon from the previous inhabitant) and drug me unconscious.
The reason I’m not killing myself this week is that I’m waiting on a FOIA request so the fuckers that my mother got to drug me into shutting up about her benzos will face some sort of justice. A lot of it is just being able to call out evil - to keep screaming about the way people like me have been hurt and are being hurt. I’m just so fucking tired though.