Growing up

The way that I feel inside is such a hard thing to explain. I have no sense of reality or how simple things truly are. I over think, over process. Make things that are so small into big problems. But that’s anxiety .  The pain that I feel on a daily bases can’t be explain. I can’t put it into words. A lot of it comes from pass traumas, people that know me, Know the things I’ve went through. Let me down. But why should I focus on the negatives, why is that all I can see. What good though has come from my life. I’m a worker. a sister. A friend to quite few people. The meaning of my life is nothing. I am a good person I know that but that’s what people should be. Good people. That’s not something I should be praised for. Not something that makes my life valued. There is no purpose to me. My purpose thus far has been pain, grief. Weakness. Nothing meaningful has come from it but pain, anger and Rage that’s deep in me. I have no one. Not one person I can explain any of this to. But what would be the point anyway? To tell someone my truth, my pain my struggle? For them to take that and do what with it? It won’t fix me. It won’t change the self loathing I have inside. Telling my story will just be the same as the next. I hurt though, the secrets I’ve kept inside have damaged me, my soul. Have made me into a person with no consistency, no stability. Nothing that someone could lean on. Because to much pressure will causee me to break and I’m scared if I were to then it will be over. It would all be released and that just couldn’t happen. I would go insane. More insane then I already am. I read this and see how much my mind is up and down. Here or there. It pisses me off. It makes me feel stupid. And then I feel sad, I feel sad for the little girl inside of me that wanted so much. That just wanted a family to love her. To think of her more then they did. They saw that pain and chose to do nothing, say nothing. Not stick up for me. She just wanted to be loved. The hardest thing I have ever grown to have. To feel consent relief and grounded. But I’m not a little girl anymore, I’m a grown women with issues that will never be truly fixed. (Depression talking) but I truly feel that way. Outside of the depression, I feel that there will be no light to the end of my tunnel but instead more darkness.