I genuinely don’t know what’s wrong with me, or where to even begin in this long chain of issues
I feel like I’m made by a extremely indecisive person, every part of myself contradicts the other
I hate being alone, I admit that I’m jealous of people who get posted by their friends on their birthdays, of people who have a lot of close knit friends, I keep finding new people to talk to, to blur the lines between friend and lovers the moment I get out of a relationship, to fill a void. But I enjoy being alone, I like my peace, I don’t like high maintenance friendships. I don’t understand why I’m like this, I’m painfully self aware of how I’m like, and I don’t know why. I think I grew up in an environment where I didn’t have to worry about money and got what I wanted, but I know I am how I am because I lack love, I always need attention and care and love, and not in the cutesy way, in the desperate way, like the quote “ i would lick love off the tip of a knife” kind of thing , where sometimes I wished there was genuinely something wrong with me so my parents and anyone else would pay attention to me, care for me, give me undivided love and affection, and I genuinely don’t care if the attention stems from something bad, such as being sick. I’ve given up my innocence, my sanity and whatsoever, for love since I was a kid, starting maybe at the age of 12. I recall trying to off myself at the age of 9 infront of my parents. I don’t harm myself physically now, I am not a danger to myself. I got groomed as a kid, I knew it was wrong, but i let myself do it because i was getting attention from them. I’ve given everything into relationships I know that won’t work out, or to people I know that are bad for me. I’ve begged for a cheater to get back with me, while being fully aware of what I am doing, and what kind of people they are. But I let it all happen, for temporary love and attention.
I hold my breath around smokers even though I do smoke once or twice a month, and not out of addiction. I don’t know why I smoke, but I started because I had an ex who smoked, and I had/might have a strong attachment to the ex because I’m so drawn to people who are prolly mentally sick but still functioning, or had a rough up bringing. I don’t know why. I don’t think I’m really living, but existing, because I don’t really want to die yet, but I catch myself saying things like oh imagine if I ran infront of the car. I don’t cut myself, but I wouldn’t mind being hurt or injured like at all, I would even hope that I do sometimes. I don’t think I’m happy or particularly anything in general. But the thing is I don’t want to do anything about it, even if I got an answer or a diagnosis that I’m depressed or something like that, I’ll just let it be, I’ll let it rot me from inside out. As long as it doesn’t get too bad, I don’t want to be well.
Theres more stuff but I’m lazy to write