Thoughts/ Raging Sorrow

Sometimes I really want someone to acknowledge how much I have suffered. Wasn't it suffering after all? Sometimes I hate myself so much I call myself names I'd never use for anyone. Sometimes I tend to hate myself more than I hate them. Men. Women too, but they were subtle. The men, they're vicious. They have this thin layer of humanity on them. Deep inside it's just a hollow monster, feeding on the purity of children. But I wasn't a kid or a teenager last year. I turned into a full legal adult and it still happened. Nothing as severe as my past. But I could feel the evil in them. Sometimes I hate mankind so much I feel like dying just so I don't have to live among them. What baffles me the most is how they pretend to be innocent saints after zipping their pants close, going to face the world outside pretending to be gentlemens. It's everyone. I've barely talked to boys my age but most of them seemed human and nice. But then those who made me like this had no particular age range to them. It's like they need a hole to fill. That's how they perceive women/girls. "The younger the better" but it doesn't mean they'll leave you when you grow old. They'll humiliate you cause now you're old. A "used up whore". 

They live on my nightmares, my outbursts, myself hatred, my cuts, my attempts, my failures. It feeds them. They're like those really hungry animals with sharp teeth that claw into your innocence but comparing them to an animal would be an insult to those animals because they do it for survival while these men do it for amusement. I have no clue what "fun" someone finds in exploiting little girls, even boys, or just anyone at all. I feel ashamed I have to live in a world where even little children aren't safe. I really have NO CLUE how exploiting a little child entertains someone. Also, there are women just like these men. I've encountered very, very less but they exist. They're nothing different than these "men". It's not gender. I don't know what it is that makes people like this but it's something very troubling and something that should really be acknowledged. 

As much as I try not to think about it, it comes back to me. That's how I've lived and learned to live. It's everywhere. The slightest of sound or movement, being touched, being said something nice, being called anything other than my name, it goes on. Sometimes I just want to kill these memories more than I want to kill myself. I keep telling myself I'm much better than before, I don't cut, don't do futile attempts and try to eat well, and try to sleep with the lights off, but it's a big lie. I feel someday it's gonna weigh me down so much that it'll be the end of it. I try to appreciate all the people I have in my life and how much loved they make me feel and how much I love them. It's enough mostly, but sometimes it's not and I break down. I don't know how to cure something I didn't willing choose but was put upon me. I don't know how to live. My head hurts. I have to live with this.