(I'm posting this from my blog, with minor edits for the purpose of now posting it as a thread)
Damn... reading stuff hurts me, sometimes. Not just reading crappy stuff, but reading good stuff. When I read something really fucking amazing, if it has meaning I can feel it. Just now, I've finished re-reading and typing out to review to Jake's own "The Story of David Mayter." It's a good read, good enough to warrant me feeling like I am now... Now, here's the big thing here.
When I was ten years old, and I told my parents about me being a TB. They didn't like it very much. I've dubbed the years of my life from January of '05 to March of '10 as the worst years of my life. During this time, because I was hated so much by people at school, by my parents... and because I hated myself, I was very suicidal. More and more recently I keep thinking about it. I don't want to tell my mom because I don't want to concern her with it, and other certain people I don't want to tell either, though, they might just come on ADISC and see this anyway (The other people, that is, not my parents). I guess, as usual, this is more venting kind of stuff. I do a lot of that, really. I vent through writing reviews, and I get my rage out by critiquing. I act social in IRC, but in real life I get to have all the alone time I want. I guess that sounds really good to everyone, but it just doesn't seem to help me much anymore... I mean, my mom still, even though she is accepting, doesn't really like the fact that I'm a TB. My dad doesn't fucking care, but my mom does a bit. After reading The Story of David Mayter, a lot of memories and emotions just came pouring back into me... I dunno.
It's really hard to say this shit, honestly. Not many people know, if any at all, that I've been suicidal since age 10. My mom and dad know, but... I try not to talk about it anymore. I've just kinda fucked myself over. For five years straight I cried at least once a week, and there has been at least one attempt that I'd rather not talk about that not even my parents are aware of. I just get worked up in my school stuff, and here, and other places and such... and then I just wanna go home and cry. So I talk to my boyfriend, but... I can't cry. I just cried to much before, I guess.
Bottom line is, any tips here? Advice?