Does He stay

Content Note: This post talks about childhood trauma, sexual assault, neglect, suicidal thoughts, and self-harm. Please take care of yourself while reading.

Future Me: July... every fucking time I'm around you, something happens.

Past Me (July): What do you mean?

Future Me: I'm so fucking tired of taking care of animals. I just wanted to come over for a little bit and leave. That's all I wanted.

Every time I see my baby, I feel horrible. I feel like I'm neglecting her. She can't do what she wants. She's stuck in that room for hours, staring at white walls, meowing because she wants out. Her litter box is never really clean, and she's in fucking distress.

And every time I'm in that house, I feel like I have to take care of everything because I know you're either not going to do it or you can't do it.

It's like... now that I'm an adult, I shouldn't have to be the parent.

But you never really were one.

Yeah, he wasn't there for most of my life.

But you weren't there either.

Past Me: I did my best.

Future Me: Your best was the absolute fucking worst thing for me.

I was sexually assaulted multiple times.

Do you even understand what that does to someone?

I've never been the same.

I never got to find out who I could've been as a kid because I didn't feel like a kid. Hell, I didn't even feel human. I was just something trying to survive every fucking second of a miserable life that my parent was supposed to help me through.

Instead, I was alone.

I hate you.

I could've been ahead in life.

I could've been so much more than whatever the fuck I am now.

But I'm not.

Because the one person who was supposed to believe me never got down to my level. You never even tried to understand me.

You didn't even tell me the truth about myself.

For years I thought I was stupid.

I kept asking myself, "Why can't I fit in? What's wrong with me?"

You let me believe something was broken inside me.

You fucking suck.

You're a shitty parent.

Past Me: Things got better.

Future Me: Better?

That doesn't erase what happened.

It doesn't take away the pain I had to swallow every single day.

Even when I was at my fucking lowest, you focused on shit that didn't matter.

You were so wrapped up in yourself.

Fuck you.

What about us almost being homeless?

What about my siblings being on drugs?

What about not eating?

What about years of stress from just trying to survive?

What about trying every day not to walk into traffic?

You thought it was just school.

You thought it was just a phase.

Are you fucking serious?

The person who hurt me was stalking me.

And you didn't see it.

Then you blamed the one person who actually felt like my angel.

Yeah, she made mistakes.

She had a lot of them.

But she was still a better person than you.

And somehow you convinced yourself you were doing the right thing.

One of us didn't die.

All of us did.

We're all dead in our own ways.

We die a little every single day.

Past Me: So what now?

Future Me: Now it's my fucking job.

I have to parent myself.

Some days I like that.

Most days I don't.

I'm trying not to kill myself while also trying to be gentle with myself.

Do I think about it?

Yeah.

A lot.

Sometimes I hit myself.

Sometimes I honestly feel like everybody hates me.

Like something is fundamentally wrong with me.

Like the only way that feeling makes sense is if something really bad keeps happening to me.

I don't feel okay.

I don't.

Most of the time I feel mentally sick.

Like my brain is just fucked up.

Like it's broken.

That's what I learned as a child.

That I was the problem.

So now I'm stuck trying to figure out who the fuck I am.

Trying to figure out what I want.

Trying to separate what happened to me from who I actually am.

Honestly...

That's the only reason I'm still here.

I'm still trying to find out who I would've been if none of this ever happened.

Maybe I can't meet that kid anymore.

But maybe...

I can finally become the person they deserved to grow into.

If any part of this story feels familiar, I hope you know you're not alone. Healing doesn't happen all at once, and everyone's path looks different. If you're struggling, reaching out to someone you trust or a mental health professional can make a difference.