Cunt. I’m a cunt. Not the worst type of cunt, I feel empathy and remorse and if anything I live a life of constant remorse. What makes it all the more difficult is that I don’t learn from my mistakes so it’s just a vicious cycle. Empty fucking promises. Today I was supposed to be the woman I loved, but my anger and complete inability to control my emotions scared her away. Can’t blame her, I’m a piece of shit. Now it’s more remorse to contend with, more self loathing… destructive behaviour with no light at the end of the tunnel. Right now I’m out on my face on LSD after ruining my Valentine’s Day with the woman I love, again, and having just been made aware that I’ll be doing community service for physical assault. I love Misfits. I hope I get a little gang and I’ve already got my superpower thought out: whenever I touch someone, they instantly say a thing they hate about me. I’m a right self loathing cunt.
I grew up in a toxic environment. Sure I had great holidays, love was shown, and support was there, but does that really excuse for the emotional and physical abuse I endured? Regularly beaten for doing something wrong, not anything bad, but just for doing something they didn’t like. Most of it is repressed, I recall one incident where I was screaming for my mum to help but my Dad dragging me to the car saying I’m going to a home. I was petrified, unadulterated fear. I cried to my mum asking him to stop and save me, but she didn’t even flinch and if anything, enjoyed it. Once dragged in the car my Dad starts the engine and screams “What did you say?” I never said anything. Before you know it, back in the house, upstairs and relieved. Relieved that this traumatic episode has came to an end. I’m a victim of emotional abuse. I’ve mastered the art of emotionally abusing someone and the sick thing right: I love that thrill. I hate knowing that I love it, but I’ve merely adopted their traits. I know fine well that episode they made me endure: they loved every minute of it. The ultimate power move. This is the reason I consider myself an anarchist. Power is the root of evil and merely given the platform we are all liable to abusing it. Some more so than others and it’s why I refuse to take up managerial roles. As much as I would love to be a manager, a leader… I have a fear I’ll become what I hate and that’s a boss. I’ll use my position to pull power moves. Anyway I digress. I was reguarly called an idiot, lazy, worthless, stupid, reckless. I was told I can’t be trusted and that I’m a waste of space. I went to university, the only person in my family to do so, but my parents begged me not to go university and to get a real job. Imagine going to university and not having the backing of your parents? No matter what I did, she - the cunt whose vagina I had the unfortunate circumstance of crawling out of -was the worst. Whenever I asked to borrow her phone, or earpieces “Don’t break it, you always break things”. Whenever I went out for a jog “You’re not out running in that? You’re stupid. You’ll catch a cold” Every fucking time I went for a jog, she wouldn’t fucking criticise me. Her and my brother would share their cars, but whenever my car broke, they wouldn’t let me use theirs. Constantly belittled for how I dressed, especially in front of female friends. She would highlight that my skin is disgusting. She would say how I shouldn’t go out like that. I took the wheel trims off of my car and she put them back on because she “doesn’t want to see that”. My fucking car. All these little things just fucking build up. And she’s protecting her own image here, not mine.
There was this one time where her, my dad and little brother all kicked the shit out of me. I was put through a mirror, I was chocked out and I was left bloodied and marks round my throat. When I got the police involved they said to go back home it’s a domestic. They didn’t press charges despite the overwhelming evidence of me being assaulted. They told me it’s best I fix things with them or move out. I was vulnerable and in the end, they didn’t help me. Countless other episodes: me being left concussed in my room after having a chair smashed off my head, having boiling water thrown over me, punched repeatedly in the head, golf ball thrown at me - she smashed the window and I got blamed, - and one that’s left a stain is the time I came home from work experience. I just finished my shift and I went to speak to the manager. I was doing the trolley work with ASDA and when I spoke to the lady I asked her when I would be doing clerical work as I’d like to be doing the clerical work as advertised at school. She said I won’t be doing any as it’s not suitable for me being in that environment with zero experience. I said “OK, that’s cool. I really like working with the guy I’m working with and I’m make some side cash keeping the pounds from the trolleys” We said our goodbyes and that I would see her tomorrow. After a great little shift in sub zero temperatures I decided to get my creme cookie. Effectively a finger donut, with icing on the top and a creme filling. After making a few quid from the trolleys I treat myself to a taxi home. I open the door to a blast of heat and now it’s time to enjoy my cream cookie. Only as soon as I walk in there was loud banging, steps, and my parents thunderously approached me. They kicked the hell out of me. They got me to the ground, pinned me to door and just beat the shit out of me. Kicks and punches coming from all angles. I was confused. Before i know it I can hear my little brother screaming at them telling them to stop. Even while I was taking a repeated beating, I could feel the panic in his tone. They threw me out and told me not to come back. I later found out the woman I had a conversation in work, for some reason completely unknown to me, lied and said I was very aggressive and very rude and that I wasn’t welcome back. I’m like what? That’s not what happened. We had an adult discussion, I showed eagerness to learn new skills and displayed concern at how the role advertised in school wasn’t the one I was given. She lied, they didn’t believe me, their mind was already made up and they kicked the absolute shit out of me. Why?
I had a little girl. A dog. She was my daughter and I loved her. I loved her more than anything. People were amazed at how lovely a dog she was and the amazing relationship we had. I’d cradle her like a baby on my lap… I’m going to stop as a bad trip is coming, but anyway, I came home one day and she put my little girl down and didn’t give me the opportunity to tell her how much I loved her. I’m fucking permanently because of that decision and regularly cry about it. Why would you not give your son that opportunity?
Few months back I was baking a cake for the love of my life and for work. I spent so much money on the equipment and goods needed. I was so excited as I had never baked a cake before. I start baking the cake and before you know she appears and starts micromanaging me. She knows fine well I don’t like that and she knows fine well what happens. She starts telling me what to do, that I am doing it wrong, that I have no idea what I’m doing. My first attempt at baking a cake, I did not anticipate to know what to do as it’s part of the learning process. I am firmly aware of how baking can end poorly even when following instructions, especially following instructions with ADHD. I tell her to leave me alone, I keep telling her to leave me alone and she continues to act a cunt and I lose the plot, tell her to fuck and walk away into my room while telling her to leave me alone. She does not leave me alone. She nearly takes the door off the hinges and hurls abuse at me, pushes me and tells me to pack my stuff and get out of her fucking house. I retaliate by grabbing her throat and warning her. It was like a light grab not a full on chock, because, well I was standing up and she wasn’t pressed against anything. She makes this weird sound and runs up the stair and tells my brother what I did and then she goes and phones the police. I get arrested for assault. Cuffed, put into the van, told to leave my hometown, and left homeless.
I regret how I handled this situation. I have anger issues I want to address, I just don’t know how and to be honest, have I even tried? I’m hoping it just goes away. I wish I explored other options, but at the same time maybe I took the right option and it helped with taking me out of that toxic environment? I now have my own flat and things are getting there. What I don’t have any remorse for is what I did to her. She’s emotionally and physically abused me my whole life. She’s turned me into a self loathing cunt. Despite my apathy towards her, I was totally dependent on her. I have never worked a washing machine until now - I’m 32, - she cleaned my clothes, made my bed, would make food for lunch. I was so dependent on her that I feared losing her because I would fall apart. I never had a relationship with her. Living with her and my brother - My Dad died of cancer a few years back - was like living with flatmates I could barely stand and I only had small chat with them and went back to my room. I never ate round the table with them, I never engaged in discussion with them, I just didn’t feel comfortable around them. They had a relationship and bonding with each other, I didn’t. They would gang up on me, she would always take his side, my Dad always took his side. I was the problem. She hasn’t worked for over a decade and he’s 30 and worked 2/3 months of his life. Neither of them have friends or a social life, but lazy me has 2 jobs, an active social life, an abundance of friends, and really a life.
BTW, a few days after my Dad died, my mum fucked his best friend. Also my friend’s Dad. That fucking escalated.
So here I am. A cunt with no fucking self esteem, dropping acid after ruining the big day again with the woman I love, alone with the prospect of court but they reckon it’s 50 hours of community service. I can’t get a hold of my mental health team, the number just rings out. I e-mailed my mental health nurse and I got an automated response that’s she’s on maternity leave. My manager who is very empathetic and she’s like a maw to me, is off sick. I’m losing everything.
So I’ve took up self harming and I get excited when I get to do it next. I’ve do wild camping/buscrafting so I have a cracking knife. I’m now thinking about going for my throat. I don’t think I’ll ever have it in me to kill myself, but I’d like to push myself. I’m gonna grab a knife and leave a few marks. Physical pain is a whole lot easier to deal with than mental pain. I like to punch myself to till I get a headache. I know my limits.
Excuse grammatical errors, typos and what not. Dyslexia/ADHD/LSD/3am