Last thing I’ll say and I’m done.

My advice to you; stop standing in a mirror jerking off thinking about how pitiful you are and how everyone is out to get you.

You were abused? Me too. Suck it up buttercup.

I was sexually abused as a child. I was beaten until I was hospitalized as a child on multiple occasions. I was led to believe I was crazy by someone that I loved with all of my heart. I spent a decade being told my memories were all false and I was a monster. When I was five years old I didn’t understand the hollow feeling I felt all the time in my belly. It felt like cold air. It was hunger. My step dad (the first time he met me) found me eating flour from a pan that my mom had used to bread the expired chicken we were given by a church because we were starving. I spent my teenage years homeless and robbing food and alcohol from local gas stations. I was betrayed by people that I thought I could trust over and over again living in that world.

I know that only your experience matters to you and what the rest of us go through probably don’t mean a goddamn thing because we’re all out to get you or whatever self absorbed self obsessed idea you’ve got buried in that thing you call a brain.

I’m still living, bud. I’m still making connections, bud. I’m still loving people, bud.

You gotta suck it the fuck up and keep living. If you don’t want to live among the rest of us then fuck off to a cave somewhere and take a mirror so you can obsess over yourself alone.

Don’t bother replying to me. I won’t read it. I’m done with this shit. I want to forget about it as soon as possible because your energy is fucking vile.

I suppose I could have been nicer, but what’s the point? I’m apparently abusing you or whatever…