I am the reason.

I am the reason the house is filled with stress.

I am the reason why others get angry at my children.

I am the reason why my children don’t feel they need to be respectful.

I am the reason others are filled with hatred.

I am the adult who still lets the bullies push me around for fear of them hurting those I love if I speak up.

I am the result of a lifetime of bullying.

I know what it’s like to wish I was dead rather than put up with the hurtful words and actions of my bullies.

But I would never wish the same upon them as I doubt they would survive it like I have.

They are not strong enough to put on a brave face and act as if it is not affecting them one bit.

They are simply scared individuals who have not been taught ways of expressing their feelings without hurting others. They act in a cowardly manner as they know no better.

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Pushing through

Suicide.

It’s definitely not a word to be taken half heartedly, nor joked about.

It is not the “easy way out”, it is beyond a cry for help.

It is something that often comes up in my mind. My mind constantly tells me the whole world would be better off without me.

It doesn’t help that people talk down to me. I don’t care if you don’t like me, just don’t constantly remind my children what a waste of space I am. That is why they don’t respect me, that’s why they often tell me how bad a person I actually am.

It gets so bad that I find myself believing their lies. It’s easier to believe vicious lies than to try and fight for myself, speaking up for myself has seldom worked, and even if I did find an ounce of courage- it doesn’t take much to make my self esteem stoop lower than it ever has before.

Maybe I’m meant to die a slow miserable death, starting with my soul and loves being killed off first until I am just an empty hollow shell of my former self?