
woofwag
Bad dog
- Sep 17, 2025
- 22
Yes, contradictory, I know. But it makes sense in a way too. My ex FWB, or weird situationship, or just plain ex, whatever, messaged me recently. After three months of nothing, not even reading my messages, they chose to reply when I was finally healing from what they did to me. It's complicated to explain, but they were abusive in many ways. I did not react well to it at all. I wouldn't say I was necessarily abusive back, but I absolutely pushed boundaries and did things I regret, things I know traumatized them. But I was traumatized by them, too.
They told me they were thinking of me and that they still loved me. They have been very supportive through all of the abuse too, and did help me change for the better in many ways while simultaneously doing things that traumatized me. I can't stand it that I still love them back. I can't stand it that I have been thinking about them as much as I was trying not to.
For the past few months, I have been trying so hard to be self-destructive that it has somehow backfired and given me so many new friends and experiences. Going out to club as a way to see if someone would drug me and take advantage of me just got me friends because I was trying to charm people into wanting me so bad they would do anything to get me. Trying to get a job to save money to buy a way to CTB has just set me up to make a list of other things I want to get first, giving me some level of hope to keep going for a bit longer. Trying new drugs hasn't got me addicted to anything yet, just given me some fun highs. I was doing well. I mean, I wasn't, I was still suicidal and hoping any one of these would truly hurt me, but it was going better than anticipated. And now, just because they messaged me, I feel it all unraveling again. I actually got on here just because of those messages. I didn't expect it to hurt me like this. But being reminded of the reasons I'm really doing these things and the trauma they caused me made it all come apart once again.
I hate that they did this to me. I hate how they changed me. I hate how much hope they've given me just as much as I hate how much despair and misery they've given me. I hate them, and I can't stop loving them. I have never met anyone so unique as them, and I know I never will again. I love all of my friends, but they specifically have a way of knowing what to say that no one else ever does, and so many fascinating hobbies and philosophies that entranced me. I want to die so bad. I've always wanted it, and now that they've reached out it's only put me back on that track once again. Maybe I should thank them for that? Having hope to die is still something to hope for. But I don't think it truly is anything to thank them for considering all of the shit they put me through.
I'm sorry I write so much. One time they told me I was quite verbose. I know it and I hate even more that they're right and I still can't seem to stop.
They told me they were thinking of me and that they still loved me. They have been very supportive through all of the abuse too, and did help me change for the better in many ways while simultaneously doing things that traumatized me. I can't stand it that I still love them back. I can't stand it that I have been thinking about them as much as I was trying not to.
For the past few months, I have been trying so hard to be self-destructive that it has somehow backfired and given me so many new friends and experiences. Going out to club as a way to see if someone would drug me and take advantage of me just got me friends because I was trying to charm people into wanting me so bad they would do anything to get me. Trying to get a job to save money to buy a way to CTB has just set me up to make a list of other things I want to get first, giving me some level of hope to keep going for a bit longer. Trying new drugs hasn't got me addicted to anything yet, just given me some fun highs. I was doing well. I mean, I wasn't, I was still suicidal and hoping any one of these would truly hurt me, but it was going better than anticipated. And now, just because they messaged me, I feel it all unraveling again. I actually got on here just because of those messages. I didn't expect it to hurt me like this. But being reminded of the reasons I'm really doing these things and the trauma they caused me made it all come apart once again.
I hate that they did this to me. I hate how they changed me. I hate how much hope they've given me just as much as I hate how much despair and misery they've given me. I hate them, and I can't stop loving them. I have never met anyone so unique as them, and I know I never will again. I love all of my friends, but they specifically have a way of knowing what to say that no one else ever does, and so many fascinating hobbies and philosophies that entranced me. I want to die so bad. I've always wanted it, and now that they've reached out it's only put me back on that track once again. Maybe I should thank them for that? Having hope to die is still something to hope for. But I don't think it truly is anything to thank them for considering all of the shit they put me through.
I'm sorry I write so much. One time they told me I was quite verbose. I know it and I hate even more that they're right and I still can't seem to stop.