I am 26 and a half now. But I feel like for years, I’ve only managed to stay afloat. To survive. I’ve done everything to feel a little free. But in the end it hasn’t been like that. In the end I’ve always been the prisoner of circumstances and worse, other people’s lack of care. Every time I have tried to change something in my life, even if I’ve succeeded, it has only brought a new wave of pain and suffering. And nobody has ever been there to help me with it, except superficially.
I used to have parents who at least cared a little bit, who at least did a little bit to improve my life, even if they themselves were causes of this prison around me. But I lost them too soon, and I have no frame of reference as to what happens to people like me. What happens to this weight of loneliness and never-ending responsibility regarding my own life. I have no idea how many more years I can try alone before giving up. Sometimes I would rather cut it short sooner anyway. Not that anybody would do anything to stop me.