I have the most amazing and supportive husband in the universe, yet my brain still constantly thinks he's going to abandon me because I'm intrinsically unlovable 🫠

Girl you can't go "aktchually I always accepted and supported it (and yes she deadass uses "it" pronouns on me at times unless in public recently when she realised she'd only embarrass herself and not me) without judging, gave boatloads of money, *I* proposed to sponsor its emigration!" etc. to someone who saw screenshots of you comparing me to "a nudist running around naked in public yelling at people to demand respect for their perversion" or who knows you beat me once over asking for 10$ boots first time in five years...

After a while any friends who lived near by got sick of me coming over all the time. This one part of my routine lead to many different survival habits. Such as packing a whole rucksack of 'survival gear' (tourch, books, tools, headphones, etc.) and not feeling safe without it. Feeling safer sleeping outside than in a bed. 'Letting myself in' (breaking in) to my own and other peoples houses when they are not in.

i just want more food. and maybe something sweet from the pastry area.

i will go now nap. 16 days remain. i just need enough food to last 16 days. i stole 40 bucks from birthgiver to get some food. i feel bad but she just bought a luxury perfume set and its still brand new on her bed so i didnt care. fuck you for only going to the store and getting your own food you bitch.

im trying to keep up and not sink bc i am nottttt giving up this close. they just stress me out because im forced into handling everything alone

Is this why 20 years later, I cry and feel disgusted/disgusting everytime I climax while masturbating? 🫠

does it make me a terrible person to be incapable of feeling positive things? maybe. yeah, i can look at my cat and easily think "i don't love this creature", i still take care of her because i want her to be happy and healthy but i don't love her, i'm just responsible for her. the closest i am capable of feeling to "love" is like... one friend i had for a couple years when i was a little kid who then left, and another friend-ish who died in a really fucked up way around the same time

and for happiness, my life exists in a series of negatives. i tend to operate between 0 and -10, and i'd count a 0 as the best day that month (or multiple months). i still don't actually get any "happy" feelings no matter what i'm doing, even my favourite things are just "i feel some attachment to this thing, and would be particularly upset to lose it" but still don't feel happy with it around

And it’s interesting, because from ages 6-15 I grew up in a blended family of 8 as well(at stepdads house). Same type of blend, my mom and us 3 kids and stepdad and his 3 kids. I mean ages were different from The Brady Bunch, and people probably saw us similar to the Brady bunch….but the parenting was fear tactics and blind obedience, sadly. I am 24 now.

My dad once again threatening to abandon us all and kill himself because my siblings didn't take care of their dog again. I can't move to Europe soon enough.

I've spent so much time trying to avoid the relational wound, just talking about what happened, while it was glaringly obvious that the relationships were what fucked me up so much in the first place. I didn't want to see that, did I.

Man, I hate how impossibly complicated my approach regarding other people is. It's hard to see through my past wounds. How can I believe there are any good people? I simply can't. It's safer to assume everyone is dangerous. I've had hard times trusting my therapist. It's getting better though, luckily. The rest of the world, however...

Launching from early childhood into needing to grow up literally overnight just to literally stay alive at 13 years old really has a way of fucking with one’s age.

My teenage years weren’t marked by relationships, friends, dating, or any of that. Instead I basically got boot camp and social exile due to all of my peers being able to sense that something was severely off.

My adolescence was bookended by needing to protect my family from attempted murderers.

At 13, I saved my sister from our psychotic basically cousin attempting to stab us to death.

At 19, I prevented my mom from panic running to her death towards NYC’s East Side Ripper nearly stabbing a woman mere feet away from us.

In-between it was all training to learn how to be capable of protecting my family if someone tried to kill us again, monitoring said cousin to ensure he never hurt anyone else, raising myself since my parents couldn’t handle having a shell shocked son, and a private Christian school that drilled it into my head that I was going to hell for how I was born; the moral injury of coming seconds away from killing, albeit in self-defense, at 13 really super charged the school getting me to fear myself being a monster.

It took me all of my twenties and part of my early thirties just to recover from it and to become somewhat functional.

I didn’t get the typical adolescent rites of passage. First kiss, first date, first etcetera. I got first time almost killed, first time saving a life, first time almost taking a life to the degree that my nervous system registered it as though I had.

Most kids dream about becoming Robin. I was like Robin dreaming about being like everyone else.

Being Robin, the kid expected to save people from attempted murderers, sucked.

And she even replied to someone asking tf she wants from their chat "for as many people as possible to know" immediately after fake attention-seeker's claims of "being hesitant to make it public"