Is Growing Up About Seeing The Things You Loved Ripped From Your Hands? Is It About Losing Everything

is growing up about seeing the things you loved ripped from your hands? Is it about losing everything to time? Having feelings and memories taken over by people who never understood them? Is it about watching your childhood die? Because I want to find a world that loves what I love, but all I see are people who want to destroy it. I am so fucking tired.

More Posts from Insidethecrypticbluemind and Others

may this year be kinder and gentler to you

Oh to walk barefoot through the damp dirt in the forest, following an almost human silhouette into the darkness.

IM A LITTLE YUCKY FUNKY BOY! LITTLE SLIPPERY SLUDGY SON! TINY WINY GRIMY LAD!

and for my last ability i get hungry easy


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Fun quarentine activity: Sprinkle grass killer in the shape of a body on your lawn and when the grass dies it will look lile someone is buried there then one day dig out the hole and if your neighbors ask act nervous and say someone else must have done it

more fun activity for people living by farmland: crop circles in the shape of a giant. bonus point if you surround the area with beanstalks 

i wish people would stop staring at me.

just because i dont have skin doesn’t mean i don’t have feelings


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ive been through so much pain in my life. Inflicted with it. Helpless to stop it.

And I’m so angry and depressed right now. How dare the world hurt me this way. I was supposed to be given kindness and love- and instead i was tortured. Broken. Made an example of. Turned into nothing.

Everyone else has such consistent happiness within them. Like they have no question that they are loveable. How fucking dare the world take that stability away from me. I was to feel safe and good all the time.

Instead i went through horrific circumstances. People stood back and said, “that kid’s going to be fucked up for life”. And instead of STOPPING it i am now fucked up for life. And those who could? Yeah.. those who SHOULD’VE helped DIDN’T. And it’s as much their fault as it is the inflictor’s fault. The pricks.

To me now it seems that almost all people have parents who love them. Families that take care of them. I hate how my life lacks that. I hate how i SHOULD’VE had that and DIDN’T.

I even feel evil right now, speaking out into the void. Their words. Telling me i am Pretending to be a victim. My pain is my own fault, i am just what is wrong. Not them. Blame blame shame and guilt on me. Not them. And this enrages me when it is so clearly twisted and manipulative.

I feel evil still. Saying out loud the fucking TRUTH. I feel like my words will genuinely hurt someone. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I know I am hurting and that this pain dies with me. No one else should ever have to feel this.

But that’s just it. MY WORDS ARE NOT HARMFUL. The guilt and gaslighting is STILL clinging to me. If I put a voice to my pain and actually say what happened, well means i’m hurting my abusers!!! Oh how DARE I hurt them by saying out loud what they fucking did to me. The liars say they want the truth. Ha.

For the void i will say it. The truth is I was robbed of a loving family. Of a happy childhood. Of kindness and love. I was not only ignored but also bullied mercilessly by people supposed to love me. And I am forced to carry this pain. I must carry this fucking horrible pain and loss. All the way to my grave. I should’ve had it better. And i didn’t.

Evil horrible people abused me.

I am a fucking victim of abuse.

I still don’t believe myself when i say that. I wasn’t abused in ways other people have- so it doesn’t count. It’s not enough abuse

But, These scars… they will last my life. They are real so anyone who says my abuse wasn’t abuse can FUCK off. (looking at you enabler family members .)

Other people had families. And love. I had a fucking posse of bullies. I was hated from the moment i could speak up. Three year old child treated like garbage.

No one else (besides other victims) carries these kinds of scars. Often i feel so alone among those who were loved.

They can live their peaceful blissful lives, happy to be loved and happy to love. I am happy for them. But the jealousy i have towards them too.. It fuels my anger at my abusers. They should’ve loved me. Treated me well. Not twisted me up and broke me and toyed and played and hit and sneered at and despised and grew disgusted with me.

World?

Void?

I am angry. And jealous. Why cant i go back and be loved? Where is the lost hours, days, of kindness? I was not shown affection.

I want to have been loved.

All i am left with is loss.

It makes me mad.


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everyone should be jealous of me.

i have found starlight and he likes holding me.

I have officially been waiting here for 635 days.

imma eat the leaves

munch the crunch

my head hurts

i hav no motivation

all i wanna do is eat and play minecraft

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  • lucky1013
    lucky1013 liked this · 7 months ago
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    insidethecrypticbluemind reblogged this · 8 months ago
insidethecrypticbluemind - Blue the Cryptid
Blue the Cryptid

-come with mewe will lay under grass in moss and starsloneliness will be forgotten-

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