I’m new here, so I suppose firstly I will say “hi”, and also state my mental illnesses so that perhaps it will be easier to grasp who I am, or identify with the ways in which I think about and process information. I struggle daily, hourly, and sometimes/oftenly every minute with anxiety, depression, and also PTSD, which has been ongoing for several years of my life. Additionally, I will warn those of you attempting to read this that I have a tendency to write a lot and usually end up writing “books” of words, so…fair warning. 
Honestly I’m not really even sure where to begin. The last few years of my life…actually probably the last decade or so at least, have been a myriad of confusion, anger, disappointment, betrayal, false accusations, frustration, depression, anxiety, heartache, misunderstanding, loss, and just the general feeling of “I really shouldn’t be here”. And recently, what I like to call my “boxes” of traumatic events that I have taped up in my mind and heart and sealed in vaults (also made of 3 foot thick concrete), have tried to open themselves now without my say-so. Almost as if I thought it was a good idea to seal battery acid in a cardboard box and then just leave it, thinking that the acid would stay in the box perfectly fine…
To be honest, sometimes I wonder if there are other people like me who just hide things away, completely cutting off any emotion and hiding them from their memory like that. I’m afraid that one day it will all come bursting forth, but my real fear is that these “acid boxes” have already tainted my life and my mind by slowly seeping out like radioactive waste, poisoning everything in me thereafter.
Lately I’ve been feeling a lot of guilt and also shame, but beating myself up internally has always been a very large struggle of mine for as long as I can remember, even as a young kid. Every choice and decision I make, regardless of how “educated” or prayed about it is, seems to ultimately turn against me. People I should be able to trust, instead show me how much I should not (even including my own parents and close family members). And above all, I have always struggled with either being too much for a person/situation/task, or not enough. I’ve always considered myself an odd ball I guess, as I never really truly fit in with any of the kids or adults I ever met or hung out with in school or other places growing up, and not even in the places that I’ve worked. Even when I was really little, it was still this way, and as I got older, I really started to believe something was wrong with me. That somehow, I was meant for a different time period, and even at some points a different planet, or simply no planet at all. Everywhere I go, I feel alien. I can and have always adapted and changed myself to fit the situations and people around me, but I know deep down that I still don’t belong. Even with the guys I’ve dated before, I notice over a small amount of time that I have once again only become something that he wants to see or be with, and that I become further and further separated from myself. As if I am the world’s most adaptive human chameleon, or best actress.
On top of all of this, my parents also took it upon themselves to instill a sense of “you must never make a mistake” as they raised me, and if I ever did, it was immediately brought to attention and given punishment for. Every mistake, regardless of its true intention or “size”, always became a “no-no”. An imperfection that ultimately was supposedly eradicated and remedied with scorn, judgement, ridicule and an implied sense of shame. Anger was never allowed for very long for me, unlike my younger brother, and instead I was told to “suck it up and deal with it”, and that I was just being emotional and/or stupid. If I did not listen and obey commands/demands and make good choices that yielded good things, I was considered worthless or hopeless or meaningless, and was told as such. Even to the point that my father had once yelled at me, “you’re as worthless as the damn dog!”. Ordinarily in my opinion, you would usually expect this kind of behavior from parents that have a troublesome child, one that is always getting into trouble and always wants to break the rules and act out and make uncalculated choices. This was not me as a kid. I was obsessed with fairness and rules and regulations, and staying quiet and listening and always being paranoid about making the right choices and doing the right thing.
But now, it seems that no matter what I do or where I go, all that has followed me is disaster and chaos, with every choice I make or decide not to make. Oftenly I wonder if things will ever stop being my fault in some way, shape or form. And at the end of the day, I always come to the same conclusion that it always will be my failings and mistakes that will constantly undo me and destroy any good intentions I ever had. Almost as if I am a walking pit of fire, and if I come closer to anyone or anything, a sudden gust of wind rises up and tries to bring the fire close, so that it burns and scars and destroys them…
…am I always meant to be this solitary and alone? Will I always destroy everything I touch? So far, the answer has always been “yes”…