Post by Seth on Sept 7, 2004 11:21:03 GMT -5
Unedited, unread, I've written what I felt without going back and making changes. Whatever is there is what I was feeling and true to the heart. So what you see, is basically what's there. You understand?[/sup]
Before I end this I have to ask,
Does this belong in this forum or the Depression forum?
I've had it up to here with life,
What's the point of dealing with neverending hurt,
When nobody gives a damn about you?
Why should I bother being the 'good' child when my parents are never there to notice me?
Why should I try so hard to gain a little respect when I get treated like crap in the end?
Questions get dull and what's the point of asking,
When nobody's ever there to answer?
As I sit here alone, thinking of my pathetic life thinking of the infidelities my eyes have seen and experienced.
Remembering the ache of losing friends and family to death, to fate, to drugs and alcohol.
What's the point?
My brother is a drug addict and he is treated like a God, so why should I work so hard to be this person nobody is even going to love?
My siblings resent me as do the rest of my family, I'm the one 'too good' for them, I'm a snob apparently because I shun alcohol and even small drugs like cigarettes.
So why do I fool myself into believing I'll be accepted in my own family? Daily I'm tortured by these people who thnik of me as not their sister or daughter but as their enemy, a traitor.
So why do I bother trying to be this person with good grades, this person who tries their absolute best to succeed when nobody loves me, nobody even sees me? I'm the perfect image of imperfection, I've fallen down the path of self-destruction. I've spent days creating scars on my arms and legs. The relief of stress of the insults and remarks shouted at me.
By all means I'm far from perfect, and this being the truth, I've yet to realize why I'm hated so much. Why am I being leered at in ugly ways, gawked at like some disease that's incurable? Who am I? Am I some sort of monster? Am I so imperfect, I'm completely unfit to be loved and taken care of?
I'm always asking questions, and it's always such a waste. By now I should know that nobody wants to answer questions of a rambling lowlife sixteen year old loser like me. I am less than imperfect, I am downright stupid.
Even this piece, this rant i should say, I don't know whether it's sad or angry. At some points I'm angry, I hate this stupid world. It makes me sick that I try so hard for nothing. I gain absolutely nothing while the druggies of my family gain everything by sacrificing their soul. And yes, I'm one step away from exploding at my dearest family for treating me the way they do.
But, what's the point really? What's the point of telling my problems when no one's there to listen? There is no reason in asking questions, 'cause nobody will ever be there to answer.
What's the point of dealing with neverending hurt,
When nobody gives a damn about you?
Why should I bother being the 'good' child when my parents are never there to notice me?
Why should I try so hard to gain a little respect when I get treated like crap in the end?
Questions get dull and what's the point of asking,
When nobody's ever there to answer?
As I sit here alone, thinking of my pathetic life thinking of the infidelities my eyes have seen and experienced.
Remembering the ache of losing friends and family to death, to fate, to drugs and alcohol.
What's the point?
My brother is a drug addict and he is treated like a God, so why should I work so hard to be this person nobody is even going to love?
My siblings resent me as do the rest of my family, I'm the one 'too good' for them, I'm a snob apparently because I shun alcohol and even small drugs like cigarettes.
So why do I fool myself into believing I'll be accepted in my own family? Daily I'm tortured by these people who thnik of me as not their sister or daughter but as their enemy, a traitor.
So why do I bother trying to be this person with good grades, this person who tries their absolute best to succeed when nobody loves me, nobody even sees me? I'm the perfect image of imperfection, I've fallen down the path of self-destruction. I've spent days creating scars on my arms and legs. The relief of stress of the insults and remarks shouted at me.
By all means I'm far from perfect, and this being the truth, I've yet to realize why I'm hated so much. Why am I being leered at in ugly ways, gawked at like some disease that's incurable? Who am I? Am I some sort of monster? Am I so imperfect, I'm completely unfit to be loved and taken care of?
I'm always asking questions, and it's always such a waste. By now I should know that nobody wants to answer questions of a rambling lowlife sixteen year old loser like me. I am less than imperfect, I am downright stupid.
Even this piece, this rant i should say, I don't know whether it's sad or angry. At some points I'm angry, I hate this stupid world. It makes me sick that I try so hard for nothing. I gain absolutely nothing while the druggies of my family gain everything by sacrificing their soul. And yes, I'm one step away from exploding at my dearest family for treating me the way they do.
But, what's the point really? What's the point of telling my problems when no one's there to listen? There is no reason in asking questions, 'cause nobody will ever be there to answer.
Before I end this I have to ask,
Does this belong in this forum or the Depression forum?
