Im my own abuser
Iím in an abusive relationship. She hates me. She wishes I was never born and reminds me everyday. Somedays are better than others, but they all suck. Im living with someone who would actually rather I die.
But she keeps me for the baby. Where would the baby be without me? Thatís the only reason Iím here.
The chick I live with hurts me. Sheís abusive in almost every way. She tells me Iím not good enough. That I never be anything because of my depression. That Iím too stupid to do anything even if my mental illness let me.
She tells me Iím fat constantly. Lately Iíve been struggling with eating again because every word is how I donít deserve to eat since Iím so ****ing fat. Iím disgusting I know, and she wonít let me forget it either.
Iím selfish she tells me. I never want to help other people. Which I do. But Iím so mad at myself sometimes I take it out on people who donít deserve it.
Which is why she tells me Iím a jerk. Iím the biggest asshole alive. Always looking out for #1 and no one else.
She tells me to do things, like how to hurt myself and how to end it. And that I should because it would be better for everyone. Almost everyoneís life would be simpler without me. I know it too. But she tells me everyday.
She hits me. I have two big bruises on my arm right now. And probably a thousand more scars from the past.
She cuts me. Sheís taken time to disassemble razor blades to dig into my arms, legs and even other places no one will think to look. My body is ruined.
If I saw this happening to someone else I would try to help. I would. I have. But I deserve it. I know I do. Thatís why itís been going on for years now. She wonít stop until she finally kills me. All this torture to make sure my lifeless body looks disgusting. My family wonít even want to look at me when Iím gone. Iíll be a mess. I know my end comes with her killing me finally. Itís been my destiny since we met. I never had a chance.
Sheís burned me before. It started with lighters. They used to call them smiley faces. When she couldnít find a lighter to steal or it just wasnít convenient, hot oil straight from the pan would do. She would drip it slowly, drop by drop in my skin and watch it get redder and redder. And throughout the day she whole watch it blister into a huge huge blister that would scar forever.
One time she held my hand to a coffee pot. This one was a black out situation where she had very little control. And it was the worst burn Iíve ever had. I probably shouldíve went to the hospital but I was scared they would know she did it to me. That it wasnít an accident.
Sheís left so many scars now that I can never go in for help now. The abuse is written all over my body. I want help. But I canít. This is a lifelong sentence Iím afraid. It will never get better. ďHelpď doesnít help. And I just want to die.
My abuser is myself, yet I canít stop.