CatJAM

sometimes the sun is so beautiful i want to just look at it for hours but then i also want to play minecraft so usually i end up playing minecraft

i think that in the world there are little birds.

These little birds are delicate and must be held gently so as not to damage their soft bones.

it is a good thing to be alive in a world with little birds. Little birds i could hold, and give a little kiss.

rain has tap tapped on my window

so i left it ajar so it could join me in my sleep

whisps of cool air were good company for my dreams.

I come back here when things are hard. So in spite of previous posts, please believe me when i say,

things have been better.

I’ve always said things do get better. And I’ve always been right about that. You know, he’s repeated those words to me. That brought a smile to my face. And I am still right.

I’m thinking of the nights when I used to break apart in my bed. A pain in my heart so palpable it scarred my skin. And then days passed. Years even. And the wounds healed and the days were bright and I found happiness again.

I haven’t felt pain like that again. And I don’t think I ever could. I know too deeply that I am beautiful and loved, for that ache to return.

It does get better.

Always.

~

However, I still get tired. And frightened. And sad. Right now I feel that.

The world feels like it crumbles beneath my fingertips. I believe in love. In safety. And my assurances fall away like dry sand. Every day scrapes by like a wounded soldier, dragging himself home.

I apologize for being so dramatic, to you the empty void. I’ve been missing love for so long.

And It’s always felt too good for me.

You know, in church we used to sing hymns? Horrible things. Monotone and droning. And there they’d weave their messages for me. A wretch they sang, working my mouth with needle and string. Sewing words in hungry earth, that blossomed into an endless fear.

A wretch. That I was not good enough for any type of love, except for love from a being you can not see, can not hear, and can not touch.

And my fear grows. Am I loved?

Am I loved? Am I loved? Am I loved? Am I loved? Am I loved? AmIlovedamilovedamilovedamiloved oh please god let me be loved.

wilbur's doing really well :D

the original iafiap sounds like the title is true. the world is pointless, everythings fleeting and nothing matters.

the lovejoy version sounds almost mocking of the phrase. lifes not pointless. the little things arent so bad if you look at the bigger picture.

ive been through so much pain in my life. Inflicted with it. Helpless to stop it.

And I’m so angry and depressed right now. How dare the world hurt me this way. I was supposed to be given kindness and love- and instead i was tortured. Broken. Made an example of. Turned into nothing.

Everyone else has such consistent happiness within them. Like they have no question that they are loveable. How fucking dare the world take that stability away from me. I was to feel safe and good all the time.

Instead i went through horrific circumstances. People stood back and said, “that kid’s going to be fucked up for life”. And instead of STOPPING it i am now fucked up for life. And those who could? Yeah.. those who SHOULD’VE helped DIDN’T. And it’s as much their fault as it is the inflictor’s fault. The pricks.

To me now it seems that almost all people have parents who love them. Families that take care of them. I hate how my life lacks that. I hate how i SHOULD’VE had that and DIDN’T.

I even feel evil right now, speaking out into the void. Their words. Telling me i am Pretending to be a victim. My pain is my own fault, i am just what is wrong. Not them. Blame blame shame and guilt on me. Not them. And this enrages me when it is so clearly twisted and manipulative.

I feel evil still. Saying out loud the fucking TRUTH. I feel like my words will genuinely hurt someone. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I know I am hurting and that this pain dies with me. No one else should ever have to feel this.

But that’s just it. MY WORDS ARE NOT HARMFUL. The guilt and gaslighting is STILL clinging to me. If I put a voice to my pain and actually say what happened, well means i’m hurting my abusers!!! Oh how DARE I hurt them by saying out loud what they fucking did to me. The liars say they want the truth. Ha.

For the void i will say it. The truth is I was robbed of a loving family. Of a happy childhood. Of kindness and love. I was not only ignored but also bullied mercilessly by people supposed to love me. And I am forced to carry this pain. I must carry this fucking horrible pain and loss. All the way to my grave. I should’ve had it better. And i didn’t.

Evil horrible people abused me.

I am a fucking victim of abuse.

I still don’t believe myself when i say that. I wasn’t abused in ways other people have- so it doesn’t count. It’s not enough abuse

But, These scars… they will last my life. They are real so anyone who says my abuse wasn’t abuse can FUCK off. (looking at you enabler family members .)

Other people had families. And love. I had a fucking posse of bullies. I was hated from the moment i could speak up. Three year old child treated like garbage.

No one else (besides other victims) carries these kinds of scars. Often i feel so alone among those who were loved.

They can live their peaceful blissful lives, happy to be loved and happy to love. I am happy for them. But the jealousy i have towards them too.. It fuels my anger at my abusers. They should’ve loved me. Treated me well. Not twisted me up and broke me and toyed and played and hit and sneered at and despised and grew disgusted with me.

World?

Void?

I am angry. And jealous. Why cant i go back and be loved? Where is the lost hours, days, of kindness? I was not shown affection.

I want to have been loved.

All i am left with is loss.

It makes me mad.

i have a crush on a girl, and like- im stupid. so that’s a struggle

o hey

its been like a whole ass year. Weird. Guess Feb is a rough time when i need to find a place to vent. Huh. Bleh. Cycles