monetpompo
૮ • ﻌ - ა
- Apr 21, 2025
- 240
when i was younger i used
to pray for god to kill me
for being a bad daughter
I made a post yesterday about yelling at my mom, but I knew I was really just instigating it because I was tired of her saying she'll get angry at me for not listening to her when all she does when she gets angry is yell really loud. She doesn't hit me, she doesn't punish me, she doesn't kill me, she just yells. I literally want her to take away my things and hit me because that would feel more stimulating than her just emptily yelling at me. My situation would at least be real if she hit me or punished me, but she never does, so she's never really abusing me. It's not fair. I want to be abused instead of her pretending to act nice to me when she sees me as lesser than her. The way she treats me is the way she treats an animal instead of a son. She thinks that letting me stay at her home and eat the food in her fridge is all I need to love her and not resenting her for years of not paying attention to me. It feels good when she yells at me because at least she's looking at me. At least she's paying attention to the things I say when I'm shouting them at the top of my lungs. When I told her that I would kill myself she was looking at me like she was actually registering the things I was saying instead of tuning them out, but I know she's just going to pretend it didn't happen later. She always does.
She always ignores the things I say. She constantly breaks my personal boundaries when I tell her I just want her to leave me alone and stop talking to me. Listening to her voice or looking at her face disgusts me. I get scared and anxious when she talks to me because I don't want to be around her. Instigating her to yell at me so that she would act like she was actually feeling towards me reminds me of how much I love being punished and hurt by the people around me. But no one punishes me. No one gets angry at me. I have so much anger inside myself because I feel incapable of hating anyone, because I think the reason my mother hates me is my own fault, too. In high school, I wanted my teachers to flunk me for always having failing grades in math, but they never did, because they knew I was depressed. I wanted them to punish me and tell me I was a bad student instead of coddling me and treating me like a baby. If I was born a man, I know that I would've been punished more harshly. They thought I was soft and weak because when they looked at me they saw a little clueless girl. I wanted to be thrashed around and called a lazy failure, because I felt like one and I was acting like one.
I used to hit myself in middle school because I thought that it would take back me being annoying to people. I thought that my classmates would like it because they didn't like me, so they would feel good seeing me hurt myself. I wanted to be hurt so badly because I thought it meant that I could atone for whatever made the people around me not want to be friends with me. It doesn't work like that, though. Nothing in the world ever works like how I want it to. People won't like you more if you try to hate yourself more than they hate you. I'm in college now and I've had several arguments with my best friend about how everyone secretly hates me and they're pretending not to because they think I'm too weak to handle it. Whenever I got anxious, I would tell my best friend that it was fine if he hated me and he could always tell me if he didn't want me to talk to me again. This is a delusion, but I believe it. I really do think that he hates me. Whenever he tells me he likes me I tune it out because I'm always waiting for when he's going to tell me that he actually really hates me and he wants me to leave him alone. I've talked myself in circles where I just kept on telling him that he should hate me because I'm a pathetic trans loser with no job that no one believes in. The exact words I've said in texts and conversation are "You're supposed to hate me. Why don't you hate me? I'm a bad person. I want you to say that you hate me so that I can feel better. Please say it."
He's made jokes about how me saying things like that genuinely make no sense, but I still believe it. I hate when he calls it a delusion when I believe it so much, even though I know it's all made up. I still think he's just pretending to like me because he knows that he's the only person I talk to and he doesn't want me to kill myself. I think about how much of an emotional burden I am and I think about how killing myself would make his life easier. Some days I'm worried that he only stays friends with me as an endurance test before he eventually gets sick of me and tells me I'm an insane person. The thought that he would ever get sick of me makes me want to beg him to admit that he hates me, even though he doesn't if he's still my friend.
I feel like I literally don't exist to the people around me. I don't exist to my mom, to my sister, to my friends, because I'm not a human being. I'm not an actual person in the way they are because I hate myself and when I think inward, I just see this black, writhing mass of self-loathing. I can't live like this for much longer. I can't keep wanting people to hate me or punish me but never getting it because other people are normal and I'm insane. It feels like people pay the most attention to me when they hate me, because no one ever likes me enough to love me. No one knows what to do when I vent to them because I don't just have surface level problems that are easy to talk about. Venting doesn't help because all my friends are normal and don't understand how I'm feeling at all. I have no way to make people understand how I'm feeling or to make people care. I want to make people care so badly. I feel like I can't make anyone care about me because I feel like an unlovable person in the first place. Since I was young, my mom has seen my self-harm tendencies and suicidal urges and didn't give any sort of response towards them. There was one time where I was ripping my hair out in front of her and put it in my mouth because I was trying to get a rise out of her. I wanted her to ask, "What are you doing? What's wrong with you?", but she just stared at me and told me that I was being annoying. When I would yell and hit my head with my fists, she would also not show any real concern. She wouldn't care still. No matter what I do, it's impossible to make her care about me. When I show that I'm hurt at all by when she tells me she wants me to die or that I'm a slut that should live on the street, she pretends it didn't happen. My suicide will be her fault. I hope that a part of her is at least somewhat aware of this. I just want her to care about me one time. I don't know why it's so hard for her to care about me. I don't know why I'm still seeking her approval when she's never given a shit about any aspect of my life. I wish that she just killed me or sold me on the street when I was young instead of making me grow up like this. If she hates me so much, she should really just kill me herself with one of our kitchen knives. I really don't care anymore.
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