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Word Vomit
Practice for writing down how I feel to my psychologist. Maybe I can put my point across more easily through text. Also just trying to lessen the pain, somehow.

The word "vomit" is used for a reason. A lot of ugly text about how my lovely mind tortures me on a near-constant basis. Stuff in here is probably gonna be triggering to some people, so if you're bored enough to read the ramblings of a mentally crippled hermit, just keep that in mind.
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Pain of loneliness

Permanent Linkby Thesilverdawn on Tue Sep 16, 2014 8:05 am

It's 2 in the morning. I usually stay up late because it allows me to hang out with my brother and his friends. We laugh, joke around, play video games and usually have a good time. It results in me going to bed at 6 in the morning, but the benefit I gain from having some sort of company outweighs the inconvenience of sleeping during the day. It's not like I have anything to do anyway.

I'm hanging out with those people, I do have company. I still feel lonely. Loneliness has been a lifelong companion of mine. I was always lonely. When I was a child, my father was really abusive, but he was even more neglectful. He didn't want to be a father, he shouldn't have been one and he isn't capable of being one. He never took care of me when I was a kid; most of my time was spent alone. I had a condition called encopresis and he used it to neglect and abuse me even more. I don't have the condition anymore (disappeared after my father disappeared) but when it had it, it was partly physical but mostly psychological. I think I did it to try and draw attention. My father didn't bother seeking medical help for me, he thought I was being lazy or that I did it to provoke him. He used that, and many other things, to prevent me from doing anything in the house. He spent most of his time home playing with his gadgets that I didn't have the right to touch, since he kept grounding me. He basically set things up so that he didn't need to take care of me. My mother did what she could but she was also victim of my father's bullcrap.

Most of my life I spent alone. I had to use my imagination and daydreaming to get by and keep me company. I'm used to having conversations with myself and just talking to myself on my own. I have my own inner worlds that I can usually venture into the moment I lay down and focus on them. I have trouble with concentration though so it's hard at times, I hope it'll get better and I can get some more focus to imagine things. It's the only thing that I have left...for awhile, I thought I found someone but she just used me. I wasn't perfect but sociopaths usually manipulates and they leave when you don't give them what they want anymore.

I've always felt alone. It seems that I'll always feel alone and be alone. I tried to talk to others but it's a very difficult thing for me to do. Talking with other people like me, avoidants, might be difficult too. It feels really hopeless at this point. I know people, I can talk to them but it doesn't feel like anyone will understand how I feel and what I went through. I know a friend that's been trying to talk to me and make me feel better, but it still doesn't feel like she really understands me. She has a good support system and doesn't need to worry about things like money. I found someone else though that seems to understand, but she's really busy and I can't speak to her really often. The person I was with I could speak to all the time.

I honestly miss that, a lot. I'm a codependent person, on top of everything else. I'm also suspecting that I've had maladaptive daydreaming all this time. That doesn't bother me though, it kept me alive. I believe it'll keep me alive and even give me some company, since I don't think anyone will want to be with me more than once in awhile. Which is fine...people have things to do. I don't really need to do anything. For some people, it would probably be a dream.

For me, though, it's just a reminder than I'm alone.

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