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It may be sick and morbid but I had wished that I had a terminal illness so that I could just die, give up and just let it be done with. It still lingers to the back of my mind, I guess this is why I have not gotten close to much people for fear that I am headed down a destructive path and I don't want to hurt anyone else but me.
I am on my own journey, of which I am still trying to configure what that really is, its not that am not successful or have suffered any major failures in life, apart from the rape and abuse, I have overcome many insurmountable difficulties. I have a family that loves me and are very proud of what I have become, but to be truly honest with myself am not too fond of them, it may be a hateful thing to say, but that's how I feel, am like a stranger living amongst them, I live a life that's separate from them. They don't even know me, who I am, what I've become. All they know is that am a success in what I do and that I am happy, when in fact am not, am miserable and I can't even tell them for I feel as though I don't belong here. They aren't even aware of my demise.
How could parents be so caught up in their own world that they couldn't see what was happening to me, I ask myself this all the time, didn't my mother see what was happening, was she caught up in her own work that she didn't notice me.
She saw my scars from my destructive days and yet she didn't even acknowledge that hey something's wrong here, what's happening to my daughter?. This never once dawned on her, as a mother, WHY?
I keep asking myself, Is this even normal? Do I really blame my family for what happened? Well maybe I do, things could have been different and I always wonder how my life could have been had this not happened to me. I might have been much happier, but then again, as humans, we always find something to bitch about.
I guess this is why I don't want children of my own, for fear that I may be as ignorant as my mother was to noticing what had happened!!!!