Remember little girl, never ask for help...
They always say talk about it and you will get help, things will get better.
How is it then every time I tried to reach out for help, people turned me down.
What did I dare to say, how do you dare to pretend you need help.
Letís just ignore you, pretend you never said anything.
Sorry, when we said we cared about you, we were just trying to be nice, we donít really care.
Itís like when we ask ďhow are you?Ē Donít you dare answer something other than fine.
You would think oneís would learn from their mistake, but no, I keep doing the same mistake. It doesnít matter if youíre 11, 20, or 30, just shut up and pretend everything is well.
Because if you do ask for help and get ignored, it hurts even more than what caused you to ask for help.Youíre nothing, nobody, we donít give a damn, we just pretend we do and play the game with us.
Remember little girl, never ask for help, it hurts too muchÖ
You're silent - you're a weirdo. You try to speak out - you're being treated like a weirdo. Looks like for every door I open, I get two slammed in my face. WTF is wrong with you people out there???!! Like you were all so picture perfect and normal. Normal my ass. Fuck it. You think you always know better don't you? You should this, You should that. Eve this eve that. Fuck you! You think you got me all figured out? Well let me tell you something-you didn't! Come on judge me, label me, that's what you can do best. You prefer nicely wrapped lies instead of the truth. Cause truth is uncomfortable. It makes you feel uncomfortable. You don't know how to handle it. You don't know how to deal with people like me, who have their own opinion, who go their own way and don't let other people tell them what to do, who don't sugarcoat things, who are quiet and don't like to show up. Yes I'm an introvert. So what? I don't talk much and keep to myself. But I was always there for you when you needed my help. I never said no. I never let you down. Does it make me fucked up and weird? Does it?! Yes I'm an atheist. So what? I only believe in things that I can see, touch and prove they exist. My God is science. My God is knowledge. Does it make me worse or strange or stupid? Does it?! If your God is better than mine tell me where was your God when a 15yr old girl was being raped several times by some sick fucks on a training camp? Where was your God when a 21yr old girl was being brutally raped by her best friend? And where was your God when a 25yr old girl was being raped and tortured by four sick pervs? And where was he when my father - the best guy in this whole sick world died because some stupid bitch was in so much of a hurry in her shiny cute car? Where was he when I was crying rivers begging him on my knees to save my dads life? My dad didn't deserve it.I will never stop blaming myself for my dad's death. I let him die in the hospital and wasn't even there when he died. Well where was your God? And don't tell me that this was all a part of a bigger plan that God has for each and every of us. Don't tell me it was a message from God, that he wanted to tell me something. Well if so, sorry but I don't understand the message. Maybe he should let some guy rape me again to make me see his point.
So I don't need your pseudo-expert smart advices. Take a walk in my shoes and then tell me what it feels like to be me. How about that? We'll see how smart and cocky you'll be then. I don't want anything from you. I don't need anyone. I've been dealing with this shit and my life all alone since I was 15. Leave me alone.
I wish I was someone else. I wish I could fit in somewhere. I wish it all has never happened. I wish I believed in myself. I wish I could accept who I am. I wish...
I wish I had a big red make-me-normal button. Whatever normal means. Sometimes I just want do disappear, stop existing, you know this feeling? And it's funny cause every time they raped me I had just this one thought in my mind: do whatever you want but don't kill me. I won't let you kill me you sick fucks. And the only thought I had after they were gone and I bumped into the reality of the aftermath was: "Why haven't they killed me?"
Why can't they understand the way we feel? They just don't trust what they can't explain. I know we're different but deep inside us we're not that different at all.