I’m tired. I’m tired of being used by my parents financially just because they didn’t make something of themselves. I’m tired of getting heartbroken. I’m tired of always picking myself up when I don’t want to continue anymore. I’m tired of having the heart to always love but not receiving the love back. I’m tired of always putting on a smile when I’m not in any way happy. I’m tired of offering a hug when I’m never offered one. I’m tired of hearing, “You’re young, you can’t be tired.” I’m tired. I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to continue. What’s the point? I’ve tried for 26 years. Why do I have to keep going? All my hopes and dreams of actually having a solid family aren’t going to happen. Why? Why should I continue? I know it’s not all unicorn farts and rainbows, but I hate this loneliness I’ve always had inside and hidden. There’s no point.
Tonight I am crying myself to sleep because of a video about a kid’s dad who was supposed to go on a trip with him but left. My dad did that a lot too. Why can’t I tell anyone about my dad? I envision my peers asking, “What’d your dad say?” And I envision myself responding with, “LOL, he didn’t respond.” However, inside my head, I’m like, “He died…”
I wish my mom remarried someone so I don’t have to worry anymore about having to lie about having a dad. I wish I had a dad so bad. Seeing my cousins have dads that are still here is slowly killing me inside. I always care about anyone who shows up in my life but I never show it. I care so much, but if they ever get out of my life, I get so worked up. I try and try to forget and avoid them until I’m finally able to do so, and then I totally stop talking to them.
I reconnected with an old high school friend after about 20 years right before the pandemic. I don’t like Facebook. It’s a cesspool. I still join in sometimes, but for the most part, I open and close it in disgust. My old friend wants to talk all the time. Her best friend recently died, and now she is reaching out to me. Though we were once close, we are really different people now. We’re so different that it’s hard to be around her.
My friend died twice after an accident when she was younger and she ‘saw God.’ I was religious, but I am not anymore. I’m not mad at anyone, God especially. How can I be mad at something I don’t think exists? I’m not just some pissed off atheist running around telling everyone that God isn’t real. I’m extremely respectful of other people’s beliefs. You will never catch me telling a religious person that they are wrong. Never, ever, ever, would I do that. But they deem it necessary to try and save me and tell me that I’m wrong all the time. I never came out and said I’m an atheist, but I told her that I’m a skeptic of everything. She proceeded to tell me that she knows she’s right about there being a God because she’s seen God. I know what oxygen deprivation does to the human brain. The God she saw was just that; oxygen deprivation. I do get how crazy it must be to come out of something like that.