Bad things
I want something bad to happen to me. I don’t know why I feel this way. Ever since I was a kid, bad things happened to me. It seems like things have calmed down, and now, I almost beg for those bad experiences back.
I feel completely uninteresting, like nothing that I do matters. I know how bad it sounds, but I almost yearn for the pity and the attention that I got whenever everything was bad.
I hate feeling like something dramatic has to be happening in order for me to feel like myself. I hate wishing that I was being traumatised again just to be comfortable in my skin— to feel like I’m not just rotting away. I almost feel undesirable.
I’m still the same kid that I was in my head, and it bothers me that people don’t see me that way anymore. I don’t enjoy pity either, and I’m not sure how anyone ever could, but I miss it. I miss the scared way that people would look at me whenever I brought up the things that were going on.
This is all kind of mush, because all I really want to say is that I want bad things. I want to hurt, and I feel like it’s something I desire, something that’s almost a right that I’ve earned to have.