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I don’t remember much of my childhood, just only remember being that typical happy go, lucky kid, until I turned 12 yrs old.
The story begins with my hero, best friend and father committed suicide, most unexplainable suicide anyone had seen. Of course, a part of me died that day.
Read more: My Worst Enemy – Anxiety
Every year until this day – I am 28 yrs old – every year, one by one nearly everyone I loved or cared for either died, left me broken in other ways, and/or stabbed me in the back in many occasions.
At 14 I couldn’t take it started meth and other substances to just feel numb, no pain or the fear or pain in so many ways. There is only ONE and ONE reason I am somewhat a functioning human being – my mother.
She never gave up on me but at a point of being fucked over so many times and ways, that reason is fading. At work I am the person who I want and should be …but as soon as I’m out of work… this sad, extremely insecure person is there.
I feel like I’ve experienced more than most have experienced in their lifetime!. How much longer I can go, is becoming very very short.