I swear everybody hates me. I’m just kind of a crutch for people to lean on when they have either no one else, nowhere else or both. It really fucking sucks, actually. It’s like how there’s always that one thing a person has but can never throw away because all they can think is “Well, maybe one day it’ll serve some kind of use or purpose so for now I’ll just shove it to the back of my closet.” I’m that one thing that people just don’t quite have the nerve to throw out because when there’s nothing else, there could be a 1% chance that maybe I’ll come in short-term use. But sometimes when you shove something to the back of the closet, it’s forgotten about for months, even years. And sometimes I think that maybe they just lost form of contact or have been busy, but then I realize maybe it’s the fact that they don’t even care enough to take simple effort, or even 30 seconds out of there day just to say “Hi.” All that I can think about when it comes to this is that maybe it would be better if they just cut me out, threw me away, pushed me clearly out of their lives. Because maybe then I wouldn’t have to struggle with this guessing game that constantly makes me feel worthless because I don’t know if I did something or if they just don’t want me around in general. I want people to just be straight forward with the fact that they don’t want me around.
Since I can remember I’ve always been made to think that I’m that object hoarded at the back of the closet made up of 1 part annoyance and 99 parts failure.
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Mentally Unstable
Non-FictionI am posting stuff that i have written, things i go threw and think of. Trigger warning; read at your own choice. I'm not seeking attention.
