Worn Out

It's starting to feel like I have no one to talk to. Nobody's home, who I can stand. Those that I've felt closest to are too far away for me to simply walk over and ask them for the time. Time to spare, time to hang out, time to just sit in silence.
Not sure, but it often feels like I'm not feel like I'm loved. But clearly the universe loves me. I've lived a damned dandy life. Worst thing that happened to me was sexual abuse/exposure from a relative, and that was nothing more than mutual masturbation and some oral. I was too young to understand it, too. But really, that? I was persuaded into the acts. Others have been forced into the act.
Oh, and verbal abuse, but I think the universe made up for it with a dad that likes to attempt to buy my love while I continued to live in poor household instead of helping to make payments on our bills and house, so we could have a place to live in by now that can't be taken back from the bank.
I'm tired and worn out. I can't go a week without wanting to cry. I don't know if it's gotten to a point of a single day without wanting to cry, but I know it's been just about every calendar week I've felt like crying. It sucks. I have so many people I love, and those who love me, but what can I do when I can't be with them to feel better? I've been like this since the beginning of March--- it's now almost the end of April. Two months. I've felt depressed and missing something. If I didn’t feel the need to confide in someone I know on a personal level, or would want to know on a personal level, I would have gone to an on-campus therapist/counselor. …And hopefully not get recommended elsewhere.
The house is a place full of heavy, negative, wearing-down and exhausting energy. I want to go through the house and “purify” it, or attempt to, with incense. But I’m the only one in this house capable of standing/liking the smell of incense, and don’t think that “oh God something’s on fire”. Well no fucking duh, Sherlock--- you’re supposed to burn incense. I have not been in the house by myself long enough yet to do that. Nag Champa, Myrrh/Frankencense to clean, and maybe Vanilla to leave the house better. Or better yet, Lavendar, so that there would be less stress in the house. Vanilla as the final/topper, Lavendar as the stage before it, Nag Champa and FrankenMyrrh as the first stage. The whole house is heavy, depressing, and negative. And it isn’t helping me feel better at all.
Anyways. I keep wanting to cry a lot. Maybe all the years have finally caught up to me. Believe it or not, I used to be such a crybaby growing up. I was in… probably fourth grade (or something’s telling me 11 now, but I think the former), and it was my then step-sister’s wedding. She threw her bouquet and it landed in front of me. I picked it up, saw that it was cracked, and began crying. I was old enough to see how stupid it was to cry over a tiny crack on a small bouquet, and yet I did so anyways. Realizing that my crying would get me no where, I hardened myself when I went into junior high, 7th grade. Was around… eleven then. Yep. Periods either already started or a few months prior. Decided that being a crybaby was “uncool” and I do believe it may have been one of the reasons the others picked on me. Hardened myself so much that by the time I was in ninth grade, thirteen years old, it became nearly impossible to make me cry out of anything other than fear or confrontations.
At least, back then I could still give in to my desire and urge to cry. Now I’ll be lucky if I can get anything more than two tears. It sucks not being able to cry. But I know that I have a harder time holding my tears in the presence of others. Maybe the weight of people getting used to me being the type who doesn’t cry/can’t be made sad enough to cry or something, just being used to a certain group role, made it harder to contain the tears, I don’t know. Makes me feel obligated not to cry in front of others. But I’ve realized that this obligation makes it harder to hold back. I want to cry in front of others, the group, etc, but everyone’s so happy, or comes to the group to escape their own misfortunes, that it feels wrong to stop covering up my unhappiness, since it’ll remind them of theirs.
Hmm… Still… it feels like the source of my problem is because I’m not feeling loved, and it’s like, “how stupid can you be?”. I know that I’m loved. But is that changing anything? Nope. Maybe because “it’s not love unless you can cry, love you when you don’t hide, love everything about you when you don’t try to pretend everything’s alright.” I don’t know. My heart, my spirit, it’s just weak and depressed.


Fuck it.


That’s what I want to say to a lot of people right now. Fuck it, fuck you, go to hell; bring up the hate and spite, the evil emotions I keep inside. Act like a bitch to the highest extent. Show you all the ugly. Maybe that’s part of it—that I can’t find anyone who’ll still be there when I do self-destruct. If I could find just that one person who would still be there, after all the shit I’ve said and do, after all the hurt I’ll instill to reflect back how much I’ve been hurting inside… Maybe I’ll find the person I can stand to cry in front of. The more vulnerable I’m feeling, the more I want to spit my poison to keep out the intruders, those who want to hurt me in my defenseless state. Guess I do have some traits of a scorpion, if I still have an ace or two up my spine.
Fuck you and your beliefs. Fuck your pity, your ignorance of my issues, your distance from me, your problems worse than mine, your shittier life, because then I’ll feel like a dick when I’m tired and hurting from my damned dandy and wonderful life.

I just want to feel like I can tell someone when I’m feeling bad and not feel like an emo bitch drama queen. That I can cry and not have it be another “oh god not again” feeling. I’m tired of crying without tears and a shoulder to lean on.

I love you all, but sometimes it doesn’t feel like it’s being returned?