Post 01:
I know at 35 years old it's my responsibility to make my life happen, but I really had the worst psychopathic bully father. Sadly, I'm still dependent on that monster financially. But I should have no involvement with him. He didn't even care if I died and gave me a horrible life
Post 02:
My father knew exactly what he was doing. He's a millionaire, probably sent my half-siblings to ivy league universities. I was like the red-headed stepchild. Nobody ever intervened and helped me. They basically let me metaphorically die. I wish they'd admit it because it's true.
Post 03:
Do they have a plan? Is there anybody who cares? Or will they continue to lie and let this end in a trainwreck? Even if I become incredibly rich and famous, an iconic artist, it'll still probably be disastrous unless somebody has a plan. It's their fault. They had bad intentions.
Post 04:
People at the art group were wondering why I was absent for 2 weeks. They THOUGHT a family member of mine passed away. I'm not sure who started that rumor and for what reason. It's incorrect. The truth is I was in the psychiatric hospital. :P
Post 05:
I don't think the psychiatric hospital was necessary. I'm not sick like I was in 2011. But I stopped all my medications prior to Thanksgiving 2022. Thanks to the psychiatric hospital, I'm back on some of them. I plan to continue taking them for the foreseeable future.
Post 06:
What I'm saying about my father is true. He was a monster who bullied me with bad intentions. They also know I'm extremely unstable and can't handle the truth. His deception is how we got into this mess to begin with with. I wish he'd be honest about EVERYTHING.
Post 07:
I'm not around my mom too much to be honest. Most of the time I'm completely solitary. While solitude is the source of a lot of my frustration. It's better than being around my irritable elderly parents all day long. I prefer solitude than being around my mother and stepfather.
Post 08:
I started living in my own fantasyland. Cut off from real world and human interaction. Comforting myself with daydreams and delusions. The source of my self-esteem was a world I created in my head because I had no friends.
Post 09:
Maybe I have PTSD because I get moments where I feel like everyone was having fun and making me into a laughing stock, mocking my decent into madness, getting pleasure from my suffering. Then when I calm down I realize even if they were jerks maybe it's wasn't that bad.
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