Nineteen Empty Buckets

struggling against the elements

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"I’ve just raised failures"
“It’d be nice of you to actually do something with your life”
“It’s your fault I’m unloved”
“I’ve given up on you”
“You’re ruined”

I continue to respond to it with silence. And don’t let the tears or hurt show. I stay calm and talk her through whatever is stressing her out whilst copping the abuse on the chin.

It’s not till I get home and shut thw door behind me that I cry and let the pain register.

When you know you’re your mum’s biggest failure.

When you know you’re your mothers greatest dissapointment.

When you know she never did, and never will, believe in you.

And when you start to believe, truly believe, that she’ll never love you…

What do you hold onto?

You’re the single darkest blot in her existence. You’re the thing that ruins everything. You’re the ugly child. The useless child. The boring one. The dull one. The awkward one. The one no one can, or will ever, love.

And if you continuely hurt, upset and let down your parents that much, it doesn’t matter how much you love them, you deserve to be alone.

And if you are all that to them, the people who know and see the real you, eventually you’ll be that to everyone. And you’re better to not let it get to that point.

Maybe it’s time to run. To hide. To stop the hurt before you can cause it. To stop the dissapointment before you can bring it. To not exist, to just fade away.

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Some night’s all that’s is tears.

You feel so disjointed and unconnected and lost.

You feel sick in your stomach as you remember more and more things you were meant to do for people that you haven’t.

The tears just make you angrier though. You shouldn’t be feeling sorry for yourself because you let other people down. That’s not okay. Suck it up. You haven’t earnt those tears.

You live alone and there’s no one to stop them falling.

You’re weak and you just need to grow up and stop being such a failure.

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That moment all you want is a hug and your blanket just isn’t doing it.

Teary, exhausted and sore.

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Some night’s I’d do anything to stop the anxiety.

And I think of everything that will help and nothing does.

I’m so mad at it, so over it, so desperate for it to stop. There’s no logic or reason behind it - it just is and I hate that.

I hate not being able to breathe, not being able to stop shaking, not being able to feel anything except out of control.

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Running.

I just want to run as fast and as hard as I can.

Far away into the distance.

I want to find that place I belong and start a new.

I need to not be drifting. To not be draining and sapping my friends. Random out bursts of struggle and negativity that isn’t fair on them.

If I went somewhere no one knew me it would be better for everyone.

I just want to run and leave all thi behind but I can’t.

I can’t leave my Guides or a very select few of my friends. And that’s so selfish of me.

I hate this. I hate knowing I can’t control my qords and actions and people than get affected by them.

I need to find some place new.

Somewhere to start a fresh.

Somewhere no one knows my name, or ever will. Where I can be an anonymity and not inflict myself upon anyone.

I just want to run.