vampxbby

[vampxbby]

Finding out the guy I fucked only liked me because I was bigger and that he was into the whole stuffing and feederism kink just churned my stomach, I remember him telling me that night and the feeling I felt when he said that. Finding out the night I met him at the party his friends were like “all you” because they knew he liked bigger girls. It’s like a disgusting churning feeling deep in my stomach and chest. I didn’t even care enough about my boundaries to give a fuck that he fetishized me. I cared more about the fact that the ego boost I got from losing weight, lifting weights, eating right—everything I was doing right was bullshit. That I looked like a giant pig to him that he could just fuck. I remember afterwards having sex with him too, like I don’t think I even liked it. All the confidence I had built up from new outfits and the hip pads it was all really stupid. Stupid to think anyone that I thought was hot to fuck me. I’ve always let ugly and mediocre men cum in me and feel so disgusting for just allowing it. I’m trying so hard to not let this ED swallow me whole again, I’m trying so hard to love myself and to be kind to myself but that inadvertently was one the most humilitating and motivating moments of my life.

[vampxbby]

I can’t take it anymore

I feel like everyone is watching me slowly lose my mind. I feel like they are watching a rotting corpse try and put on a smile or even move. I don’t feel anything I do is right and I felt like I’ve been pushed to fly without a parachute. I want to hit the ground and just disintegrate into something else. Plants? Trees? Flowers? Something something other than me. I’ve always wanted plastic surgery and to be someone else, someone that both my mother and father would love. Someone where her brothers would call her. Someone who deserved to have the wheel taken from them sometimes. I’m so jealous of people who have families, who love them, who care for them, who want to see them succeed. I just have a mom who wished she never had me and a dad whose a workaholic. What’s the point of doing the things I want to do if I’ll be poor anyway and have a mom telling me I’m no good at it anyway? What’s the point of breaking my back over things anymore to just be the one to rescue myself anyway? What’s the point of asking for help when I’m just told about how I’m feeding an addiction? I wished my existence was just worth something more than to break my back over a job, have kids and die. I would give anything to not feel what I feel everyday, I would rip my skin off, pray to a foreign god or even lie to myself if I knew I could be free from this turmoil. I have tried being happy for so long now and maybe I was just doomed from the start. To always be left to the side and forgotten about. Leaving university for a boy who needed to be constantly pushed to do something was stupid. But I loved him and believed in him and maybe I believed in something I couldn’t see. I want to eat sushi one last time with though, I want to see him smile or crack a stupid joke. Oh how much better our lives would have been had we been loved by the people who made us and spoken to gently and softly. Could we have been more?

I have attempted many times but never completed but I think for once I am not afraid. I only worry of the pain and suffering I may face but I’m not scared for once. I had plans on Monday to attend a party but I think I’ll be a homebody again and miss it. She was so sweet too.

So for now, I can dream of the music I would have made, the books I would have written, the games I would have played or made, and I’ll live in that world.

I know there is nothing afterwards just atoms evolved into comso and eventually a vastness of emptiness and stars. I hope I become that comet. I never got see it but hopefully I will pass by earth once in a millennium and orbit briefly before going on its journey once more. I know there is no god, for now, but for once I beg of him to rid of this misery. No one deserves this misery, not he or I. And I’m not strong enough to withstand this misery with no one to rescue me at least once in awhile. I don’t ask very much but I would ask to be cremated. Grow me into a great pot of flowers, turn me into jewelry, spread me across a garden and watch me bring life. I hope I pass on the life that I never got into a hydrangea, a harvest of tomatoes, or in a flower field far away in the mountains of Washington. I hope I make people laugh and smile when I see them. I hope I remind them to be kind and kind to themselves. I hope most of all that the people who feel they deserve redemption from me know they have gotten it. Because I am no longer angry and hateful, but alone and sad. I was writing suicide letters in middle school, I can imagine I’m a novelist at this kind of angst. Wonder if I will write a book about suicide in my next lifetime. I hope I made you laugh, smile, and even cry. But please don’t forget me. Make sure you always find me in small trinkets, flowers on the side of the road and scenic views. I may be a bank teller with bipolar, but I’m also an astronomer, writer, musician, weightlifter and hopefully a good friend. I don’t mean to cause you any sadness or frustration with my debts and I’m sorry I’ve left them to you, but take care of yourself and remember to take your medicine. I don’t have very many pictures or videos of me, but I do have my words and I hope they ease you. Goodnight everyone, I love you.

[vampxbby]

The God of Highschool - Yu Mi-Ra

(Spoilers for later chapters.)