mob
Student
- Jul 19, 2023
- 136
My life has always had short ups and long, draining downs. I used to live with my abusive parents until the age of seventeen, which until then already included two ctb attempts, one with 14 and the second one with 16. The reasons were always the same: abuse I was facing at home, which caused my grades to drop back at school, and for me to be terribly depressed. The fact that I grew up in a strict muslim family and me being lesbian didn't help.
It's a very messy story, which included police, court, and years of therapy, but in that time I never got better. I still lived in the same town as my family, and it was impossible to avoid the past still haunting me.
I met my ex girlfriend when I was sixteen. She's the one that took the step for me that I couldn't take myself, she called the cops the day my father decided to lock me into his apartment, no electronics, no nothing, and his aggressive behaviour really made me believe that dying would be much better than this.
I loved that girl, but it wasn't meant to last. After three and a half years, the love we carried for each other slowly but surely faded. I was constantly depressed, suicidal and actively self-harming and abusing pills. The memories of my past were looming over me, not allowing me to move on.
She was my anchor, and I was hers. I did everything for her even if it meant to completely ignore my feelings for her. She was troubled too. And after all that time, the things that used to connect us simmered down to one singular thing: our shared misery.
After all this time passed, our relationship became unhealthy; daily arguments, her threatening to kill herself and saying it'd be my fault, her openly admitting to wanting to cheat, her mental breakdowns, flirting with others while I was right next to her, the list goes on. I didn't want that anymore, but I was desperately clinging on to the comfort of familiarity, after all we'd moved in together and had gotten two cats. I was completely dependent on her, we even shared the same job, I thought that I couldn't live without her, so I never attempted to do so.
But for the first time, I took an important step for myself by breaking up with her. It was messy, it was confusing, it was painful.
She found a new boyfriend fairly quick, and until the day I moved out I was treated like I wasn't even human by her and her whole family. I wasn't able to sleep anymore, to eat or to drink enough. I didn't go to work anymore, and I constantly felt so very uncomfortable.
I couldn't relax, her grandma had the key to our still shared apartment and would talk to me like I'm a pile of shit, my ex would tell her mother I hated her, which was never true. She turned everyone against me, and would constantly have her boyfriend and other people in the apt, just thinking about it right now makes me feel sick to my stomach. I was told I have no say, it's not my apartment but hers, and that I had two months to move out.
Suddenly, I felt like I was 14 years old again. I didn't want anything more than to die.
Regardless of that, I didn't attempt - I still had my best friend who was my biggest support in that hard time, and I'd met someone new I was starting to see more often.
So I did what I had to do; I took the cats that my ex never bothered to take care of (barely fed them, never did the litter boxes), packed my stuff, I thankfully found an affordable apartment, and got the fuck out of there. I got a new job and live in a different town now.
It's still hard, incredibly so, to suddenly be by myself but I'm managing. I smile more often, I'm more social, and I can finally, finally feel comfortable in my own home again.
And my ex got broken up with and is the one to reach out to me to ask if the loneliness ever gets better. I don't wish her anything bad, but it's her turn to self-reflect now, and that she must do alone.
I don't abide those stupid rules my mom put up for me anymore, like daily calls, visiting once a week, etc. Also the person I started seeing became my girlfriend three months ago. I learned to not depend on once single person regarding my emotions and feelings, and we both have our own personal space and don't see each other every day, thankfully. I get respected by her, and she's genuinely matching my energy.
My cats are well, as soon as I'd left with them they became cuddlier and more affectionate. My job is going well.
And that made me realize, I'm not sure anymore if I truly want to die. So I will continue to live and try my best to get better. Because there's only two options: die or live. And I'm starting to realize that living doesn't always have to be shitty. I managed to drag myself out of this mess, changed my environment, and decided I might as well give living another chance.
I apologize for this awfully long post, thank you for reading.
It's a very messy story, which included police, court, and years of therapy, but in that time I never got better. I still lived in the same town as my family, and it was impossible to avoid the past still haunting me.
I met my ex girlfriend when I was sixteen. She's the one that took the step for me that I couldn't take myself, she called the cops the day my father decided to lock me into his apartment, no electronics, no nothing, and his aggressive behaviour really made me believe that dying would be much better than this.
I loved that girl, but it wasn't meant to last. After three and a half years, the love we carried for each other slowly but surely faded. I was constantly depressed, suicidal and actively self-harming and abusing pills. The memories of my past were looming over me, not allowing me to move on.
She was my anchor, and I was hers. I did everything for her even if it meant to completely ignore my feelings for her. She was troubled too. And after all that time, the things that used to connect us simmered down to one singular thing: our shared misery.
After all this time passed, our relationship became unhealthy; daily arguments, her threatening to kill herself and saying it'd be my fault, her openly admitting to wanting to cheat, her mental breakdowns, flirting with others while I was right next to her, the list goes on. I didn't want that anymore, but I was desperately clinging on to the comfort of familiarity, after all we'd moved in together and had gotten two cats. I was completely dependent on her, we even shared the same job, I thought that I couldn't live without her, so I never attempted to do so.
But for the first time, I took an important step for myself by breaking up with her. It was messy, it was confusing, it was painful.
She found a new boyfriend fairly quick, and until the day I moved out I was treated like I wasn't even human by her and her whole family. I wasn't able to sleep anymore, to eat or to drink enough. I didn't go to work anymore, and I constantly felt so very uncomfortable.
I couldn't relax, her grandma had the key to our still shared apartment and would talk to me like I'm a pile of shit, my ex would tell her mother I hated her, which was never true. She turned everyone against me, and would constantly have her boyfriend and other people in the apt, just thinking about it right now makes me feel sick to my stomach. I was told I have no say, it's not my apartment but hers, and that I had two months to move out.
Suddenly, I felt like I was 14 years old again. I didn't want anything more than to die.
Regardless of that, I didn't attempt - I still had my best friend who was my biggest support in that hard time, and I'd met someone new I was starting to see more often.
So I did what I had to do; I took the cats that my ex never bothered to take care of (barely fed them, never did the litter boxes), packed my stuff, I thankfully found an affordable apartment, and got the fuck out of there. I got a new job and live in a different town now.
It's still hard, incredibly so, to suddenly be by myself but I'm managing. I smile more often, I'm more social, and I can finally, finally feel comfortable in my own home again.
And my ex got broken up with and is the one to reach out to me to ask if the loneliness ever gets better. I don't wish her anything bad, but it's her turn to self-reflect now, and that she must do alone.
I don't abide those stupid rules my mom put up for me anymore, like daily calls, visiting once a week, etc. Also the person I started seeing became my girlfriend three months ago. I learned to not depend on once single person regarding my emotions and feelings, and we both have our own personal space and don't see each other every day, thankfully. I get respected by her, and she's genuinely matching my energy.
My cats are well, as soon as I'd left with them they became cuddlier and more affectionate. My job is going well.
And that made me realize, I'm not sure anymore if I truly want to die. So I will continue to live and try my best to get better. Because there's only two options: die or live. And I'm starting to realize that living doesn't always have to be shitty. I managed to drag myself out of this mess, changed my environment, and decided I might as well give living another chance.
I apologize for this awfully long post, thank you for reading.
