I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to live with the reality of my life – both what happened in the past and my life now.
My reality is, I don’t have what I need to heal. I don’t have a caring supportive partner. I don’t have people in my life who care about me. I don’t have counselling where I feel safe to talk. I am very aware complex trauma is only healed by having safe, trusting relationships. And I don’t have that.
I give up. I accept this is it. I accept that I will wake up every morning, wishing I hadn’t woken up and having to force myself to live, for my children. I accept my reality and I accept I hate it.
I wish I had done a better job, when I was a teenager. The only decent thing my mother ever did, was take me to the hospital when I tried to overdose. And I wish she hadn’t.