I realised something awfully painful today.
Something plainly awful.
I hate everyone who I have loved.
My mum, my sisters, my best friend, good friends, lovers.
I hate them for hurting me so much. Again and again.
I hate that they used my depression as an excuse to push me away or blame me for their behaviour.
I hate them for acting like it is okay for them to have ‘issues’ that are innate . . . .
. . . not talking about emotions
. . . holding onto childhood hurts
. . . lying about substance abuse
. . . being scared but behaving angrily
. . . but it’s never been okay for me to have an issue.
And worst of all
I really strongly dislike the word hate.
I never use it.
Our world is filled with it.
I don’t want to feel it.
But I hurt so much. I feel betrayed.