• Not quite sure what the meaning of me writing this is. *Venting*

    by  • February 16, 2012 • Anger • 0 Comments

    I’m stressed beyond belief nowadays.
    Working a full time job where 99.9% of the people hate me, trying to be a full time college student when I hate college and barely go, trying to maybe trust my boyfriend when everyone tells me I shouldn’t, try not to run away from my family because I hate them all and they hate me, and trying to stop my self-infliction upon myself so maybe I can try to get better.

    I hate my job, I pretend to like it but I hate it. They hate me there, most of the employees. This one girl, she started a rumor saying I was sleeping around, now everyone thinks I’m a slut, this is only because I started dating a guy she liked who works there. Sorry, sorry he liked me too. Maybe if you told me you liked him and weren’t a bitch to me in the beginning then I would have let you have him. People tell me she’s so mean to me because she’s jealous of me. She thinks I’m pretty and hate that alot of guys liked me when I first started. That wasn’t my intention. My intention was to just get a job, work, and be a normal 18 year old at the time. I don’t go around, going into new jobs HOPING I get a boy, no. That’s no like me. So back the fuck up.

    I hate college, my God, do I hate college. I’ve always hated school. In high school I’d skip every week, I’m surprised I passed at all. But in college, it’s like the same for me. I can’t sit through a class, I need to be up and moving, I need to be doing something, not sitting there taking notes. I’m going to college to get a degree in social work to help victims of domestic violence. I feel terrible that I can’t get the motivation to sit through a 90 minute class to help you all. I really want to. I feel like it’s my purpose. I’m such a failure to you all. I just get too bored, I get so antsy. I take an abnormal psychology class where I’ve read all the material through out the past four years. I like to read this stuff on my own, I can’t be told to learn it, or I’ll rebel. I hate myself for this. Why can’t I have some fucking restraint on myself?

    My boyfriend and myself, oh our rocky relationship that we have. It’s taken us 7 months to finally be happy. “We got divorced before we got married” You said that, it tore me apart yet made so much sense to me, because of how true it is. That girl, that girl that hates me at work, you two used to have a thing. You told me it was simple flirting, she told everyone you were fuck buddies and that you still text her all the time naughty things. I confronted you. You got mad, got mad that I accused you of things, I asked you if you told her you missed her. You said you did, cause you stopped being friends with her for me. Bullshit. How dare you. You broke my trust. She spreads all these rumors about me, tells everyone you’re fucking her behind my back and you don’t even have the balls to tell her to shut the fuck up. So I’m guessing it’s true, right? RIGHT? I get so angry with this. I’ve fallen for you, and you wont even stand up for US. Why? WHY? Cause you’re still flirting with her? cause you’re still fucking her? I believe that you did. There’s no doubt in my mind you’re telling me other wise so I wont get mad. …… I’m crazy. 🙁

    I hate my family, and my family hates me. I was always the black sheep of the herd. Always the one everyone forgot about or was disappointed in. I’m sorry I never amounted to what you guys wanted. But I have two words for you all.
    Fuck. You.

    I started self-inflicting when I was in the 7th grade. I’m now in my second semester of college. Off and on off and on. “This is the last and final time” I’d always tell myself. Well, it never was. I don’t know why I can’t stop sometimes. I’m in no risk of trying to kill myself. I don’t want to kill myself. Little do most know, self-infliction rarely leads to suicide. Some do of course, I can’t say none of it does. I’m not one of those though. I feel like I have no one sometimes, no one to talk to. The people who I did have left. They got bored, didn’t want to listen to me anymore. I don’t blame them though. My pitty issues are nothing compared to theirs probably. I wouldn’t know, they never opened up to me though I always gave them the chance. I hate complaining. I do it cause I have alot to say, and no one will talk or listen. I need someone to listen. That’s all I need. Why, why wont any of you listen. I listen to you all. I help you all. I give you all advice that you all throw away. What the hell. I need something back. I need someone to sit with me and let me cry over nothing sometimes, like I have for all of you. I don’t mind being that shoulder, but where’s mine? Am I not good enough? Are my problems just stupid? Sorry, sorry I’m too emotional then. Sorry I’m not good enough for all of you. I just…. don’t want to feel like this anymore.


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