It comes and goes in waves. [I Hate Depression]
It’s been years since it happened. It’s not like I think about it anymore. But the damage you caused and did was more than physical.
You not only beat me and hurt me over little things. Or screamed in my face. You not only pulled a knife out on me in public over me telling you what gas to use for your car that I paid for with the money I had left.
You made it so I feel like shit no matter how hard I try. You made it so no matter how much I work to pay for myself or clean the house or whatever. I still feel bad because I feel like I feel short somehow.
You were the first person I loved and was with. And our relationship shaped how I view things now. Because now, I get upset or anxious and depressed if I can’t do something right. You made it so I always feel like I’ll never amount to anything. Cause no matter how hard I tried you always found something to be mad about. Be it a article of clothing on the ground. Or I was messaging a friend and told them I loved them (as a fucken brother) but you broke my phone and threatened to kill them.
You weren’t happy with anything I did. So unhappy you cheated on me. And I can never understand why. I knew you did drugs. I knew you snuck around. I new you were the person who stole my stuff. But I didn’t say anything because I was scared of you.
Now you’re long gone. But you will never understand the damage you caused. How I can still feel the scar on my head from when you split it open. The blood I saw all over the shower as I cleaned myself off. The nightmares I still have. And how I hate sleeping in fear of having them. How with every relationship after you I get anxious and worried and sad when I didn’t do x, y, z. Because I didn’t do something.
You will never, understand. All I hope is you die alone. And if you do find someone. They treat you like you treated me. You didn’t love me at all. You loved possession.
You not only beat me and hurt me over little things. Or screamed in my face. You not only pulled a knife out on me in public over me telling you what gas to use for your car that I paid for with the money I had left.
You made it so I feel like shit no matter how hard I try. You made it so no matter how much I work to pay for myself or clean the house or whatever. I still feel bad because I feel like I feel short somehow.
You were the first person I loved and was with. And our relationship shaped how I view things now. Because now, I get upset or anxious and depressed if I can’t do something right. You made it so I always feel like I’ll never amount to anything. Cause no matter how hard I tried you always found something to be mad about. Be it a article of clothing on the ground. Or I was messaging a friend and told them I loved them (as a fucken brother) but you broke my phone and threatened to kill them.
You weren’t happy with anything I did. So unhappy you cheated on me. And I can never understand why. I knew you did drugs. I knew you snuck around. I new you were the person who stole my stuff. But I didn’t say anything because I was scared of you.
Now you’re long gone. But you will never understand the damage you caused. How I can still feel the scar on my head from when you split it open. The blood I saw all over the shower as I cleaned myself off. The nightmares I still have. And how I hate sleeping in fear of having them. How with every relationship after you I get anxious and worried and sad when I didn’t do x, y, z. Because I didn’t do something.
You will never, understand. All I hope is you die alone. And if you do find someone. They treat you like you treated me. You didn’t love me at all. You loved possession.
26-30, F
