The Oppressors Broke Me

TW: Ranting despair and suicide

I hate this life. I hate almost everything about it. I hate that I have to sell my time and, according to the middle management overlords, my autonomy, creativity, and literal thoughts to get access to the resources I need to survive. I hate that I spent 40+ years of my life having to figure out the least awful way to sell myself for access to those resources. I hate that I have to steal moments of joy any fucking way I can to convince myself that I should want to wake up and endure another day of this shit.

I hate that I never felt safe, comfortable, or supported enough to want children. I don’t regret not having them, but I do regret the multitude of ways these fuckers made that shit unbelievably dangerous for both me and any children I would have. I hate that I have to spend all my time trying to circumvent the life-endangering obstacles created specifically to make my life harder.

I hate that I live among warmongering monsters. I hate that I am forced every fucking day to brace myself for their habitual cruelty and heal myself from the wounds they inflict globally. That I have to manage the damage I take from their disciples and accomplices. That I have to fucking pretend I’m not hurting while they rampage across the globe, demanding control of everything under the threat of mass death.