Why do I always push them away? Why can't I even look at him? He makes me so happy but I can't look at him without wanting to cry? Why am I so stupid to not realize how much people love me? Why did I start cutting? Who knows? Not me that's for sure...
It's hard to understand why I do everything I do and why I can't feel happiness anymore. I look happy all the time so it's hard to explain to someone what I feel so I don't even try. Or when I say I'm sad but I look happy people think I am making it up for attention. I don't tell people anything anymore and I never have before. I wish I could stop bottling everything else up but I can't let it out even if I wanted to. People always tell me to stop bottling everything up but they don't understand I can't help it. I don't talk to people either because I don't want to bother them like I don't want people to bother me and I don't want to see the sadness and disappointment on their face when they figure it out or I tell them.
I'm self-conscious about everything about me. I feel like I'm not skinny enough, I'm really ugly, I'm stupid, etc. Everyday my self esteem gets lowered more and more. And they are probably part of the reason I can't stand to look at him when I'm sad, when they say things about me that involve him or make fun of me and him, or when I am feeling self-conscious and ugly. He always comforts me and every time I stop smiling or cry or something I feel him drift off a bit. I know it upsets him even though he said I can always talk to him and he will always be there for me. I feel like I push him away so I try not to involve him in anything like this. I try to stay happy for him, so he doesn't notice or at least doesn't feel like he has to ask me if I'm okay. When or if we break up I don't know what I will do because I have never cared for someone as much as I have him and my dad. Which is why I don't want to disappoint him.
Ever since my dad had died I felt as if I was drifting away from everyone even more than before and it's been downhill ever since that day. With every passing day I feel more and more afraid and scared and unhappy. I wish I could get happier each day but I guess that is wishful thinking. Some people have it worse than I do so why do I complain. Because I can and everyone needs to vent so I do through this. I know even though when people say they know how I feel and I feel as if they don't they probably do. People go through divorce, they had a rough childhood, their parents don't treat them right, etc. But I feel as though I and many people have a taste of a little bit of everything.
One day in school we were asked to make a list of events that have happened in your life and things like that. We were doing it so we could write a six word memoir describing our lives. For most people it was easy but I searched and searched for something happy but I couldn't think of a major event in my life no matter what it is because what I had was already gone and there was no point in including it.
When I was three I had a blood disorder and almost died. Before I was born my childhood was already ruined after my dad had a huge car accident that killed the other person immediately. He had been in a wheelchair for a couple of years and it disabled him from being able to do many things with me as a kid and my mom was an alcoholic. With her being that way she never really acted like a true mother. I was raised by my dad which is why I care for him so much. My mom had also been put in a wheel chair for a year not too long ago from being really sick. She had a liver disease and it wasn't supposed to grow back. She was in the hospital most of the time. The doctor said she has 2 to 3 years to live. She got it from being an alcoholic for so long and for drinking so much. I was scared I was gonna lose her. But she got better. Shortly after my dad got really bad and was in the hospital even more and got sicker and sicker. He would be in the hospital for weeks and days at a time. The hospital had become a second home to me. Each visit kept getting longer and I can't even count the number of times an ambulance has been called to my house. I remember the first time he had an episode was thanksgiving and my uncle George was visiting. We were all playing a card game at the table. We took a quick snack break and all of a sudden Dad stops breathing. He kneels over trying to breathe and is spitting out blood. Mom and Kara are trying to call 911 while George helps him. I stood there in terror as everything went down and felt so useless unable to help or move. He calmed down and the ambulance arrived taking him away. A lot of things happened between then and the last time he was at the hospital.
The last visit to the hospital with him started off with another call to the ambulance. All day and the day before my dad wasn't able to move and was like he was paralyzed. The entire time that day he laid on the side of the bed half on and half off. My mom would constantly yell at him for laying there all day but she didn't know any better. He couldn't move and needed help up off the bed. He asked her for help but she refused to help. He looked at me in pain and asked me to help him sit up so I helped him sit up. I then turned around and walked out crying. To think he was so pitiful and he was always my hero and would never do that. Later that night mom finally called the ambulance after trying to get him to let her do so. He was so bad and couldn't move that the guys had to pick him up and carry him to the gurney. They took him to the hospital. He was in a coma for a couple of weeks in the ICU. He woke up a little and could open his eyes but that was all. They moved him to a different ICU. They took his respirator out and he was able to talk. He would always ask for coke and repeatedly say coke like a little kid. A little kid was his state of mind at the time after all. The night they took it out me and my mom figured I would skip school and stay the night at the hospital because we both had a bad feeling. Mom woke up and decided to go see him. She heard code blue on the floor and room he was in over the intercom. She ran to the room. I woke up when a nurse told me to come get my mom. As I walked to the room I had a really bad feeling and knew something was wrong. She was crying and I looked in the room only to see his feet shaking on the end of the bed as I heard the bed rattling. The nurse had us go to the waiting room. An hour passed by and a doctor came out. He told us what happened. Then finally he said they tried everything they could but it failed. Mark Alan King has passed. Kara, mom, and I all cried and I remember mom and Kara hugging and Kara's leg shaking vigorously. We visited him for about an hour which felt like 5 minutes and I sang to him one last time. We packed up right after and left. We didn't bother to stay.
We picked out his urn had a service and that was it. Exactly a month later on March 4th I was in the hospital as well. I had gone to the doctor because I looked unhealthy and lost a lot of weight. Mom thought it was my Thyroid but I had Type 1 Diabetes. I was sent straight to the hospital. I spent one night there, I somehow ended up in the same room I was in when I was three, then was off again. It took a lot of adjusting and since everything I have had many mental breakdowns all of a sudden even in public (which is embarrassing). Mom started drinking one night again and became an alcoholic again but worse. She became violent. One night she was so bad she choked Kara and slapped her. Me and Kara almost called a rehab center. And he was there in between it all. I feel so bad for him and all he has to go through because of me. She got bad again but in a restaurant this time. She was yelling and slamming down plates. Again with everyone watching. She showed up to AWA drunk once again. Even though she wasn't doing anything it upset me and angered me that she had broken her promise not to drink. I got so upset I ended up crying in front of Monica, Katie, Chet, and Jake which I would never do. He had left to find her and I just started crying. But of course as soon as they got back I immediately stopped crying, hiding the fact I was crying so he nor mom would know I was. Ever since she has had a few beers here and there.
At school is a whole different thing, but I don't wanna get into detail with that too much. Other than what they think and all the shit I put up with. It's hard to be me for me and who I am. I am constantly called fat, ugly, emo, and scrub. Probably the stupidest thing ever, scrub, but it still hurts like a knife. They make fun of me being gay and say I am stupid because of it and I need a little Jesus in my life. They always say things about him to. They say he is perverted or makes jokes up about me and him. It makes it hard for me to forget those things even though they aren't true. It is the true reason I have a hard time at school the way they make things up that they don't even know what they are talking about. They make fun of me dating my step-brother, or dating a "pedophile,or the fact that we live together in the same room.
I think I am officially gone and broken. I don't know why but I am. I want to say more but this is it for now. Or for forever. I am sorry for hurting you. I am sorry for doing anything to you. I am sorry for these stupid letters. I am sorry it's me. This has been half of everything up till now. And what is going on now I will keep a secret for now. If you ask I will not lie. But if you don't I will not tell. I love you no matter what. I love you to death and I literally just mean it.
Author Notes: I talk about him a lot and for those of you that don't understand who I am talking about I am talking about her boyfriend.