I trusted you.

Never again.

I poured out everything for nothing.

Now I know I'll never be free and things will never change.

-Cassandra Alexa

I destroy everything I touch.

Why do I even have wants? Why want something when I can’t ever have it? Why can’t I just have something to myself that makes me happy and that stays? Why can’t I feel loved? Why can’t I feel happy? Why can’t I be free?

Why get a fish when it will just die? Why tend to a flower when it will just die? Why make a friend when they’ll just die? Why care about someone when they’ll just die? Why have a baby when they’ll just die?

What is anything really worth?

I’m always trying to find happiness and love and a reason to live, and there’s nothing.

I can’t deal with it.

I’m too scared to die. I don’t want to be dead.

But I think about jumping in front of the train as it comes.

I think about opening my window and letting myself drop fourteen stories.

I think about cutting myself. I got a couple good scratches, but they faded away.

I think about taking a bunch of pills. No one would know until they find me. I can only take a few.

I think about jumping in front of cars.

I think about overdosing.

I don’t have anyone here with me, anyone I feel genuinely close to. No one has ever loved me in a romantic way. I won’t even talk about family. And I cry out to God, for what?

If you can’t escape, why stay?

I can’t get myself out of bed. I can’t make myself talk. I can’t do my homework. I can’t go to class. I can’t go to the grocery store. I can’t eat.

I can’t.

I can’t.

I can’t.

I’m just waiting for the other fish to die.

And it did.

One right after the other. One day after another.

Why is that always my misfortune?

I feel scared to see dead things.

I feel scared I won’t get help fast enough.

I feel nothing.

Why choose to live if I’m just going to die?

Why read this if I’m just going to die?

Why read this if you don’t actually give a fuck anyway?

What’s the point of what you’re doing today?

-Cassandra Alexa

I think about old friends a lot.

Some of them did me wrong. Some of them were just misunderstandings. Some of them just fell off. Some of them I’m not sure what happened. Some of them were my fault.

As I said earlier, I have trouble letting go of people, memories, and emotions.

I think I live in a fictional past state.

But these relationships were real ones. These connections to others.

I think about the ones that used to be my best friends and of those:

I think about talking to or sort of apologizing/ talking things through with some, but we’re very different people now and we know nothing about each other now and everything else burned out, but I love them dearly still; I wish nothing but the best for them and I cherish all our memories and as much as I miss them, I miss a past that doesn’t exist anymore; I don’t want to rehash old arguments or to have the same issues persisting, but I do miss them a lot and something feels very empty without them, especially with them always having been such a huge and constant part of my life.

For another best friend, I haven’t spoken to her in years, and I guess it was one of those cases where you just fall off, but she was my childhood best friend. I also spent a majority of my childhood with her. I sometimes think it would be nice to rekindle our friendship, but I know she’s not interested in that. I still have all our memories and I wish I had a time like that in the present.

Another best friend I lost to drama between other friends and to her not treating me right and other things like that. I did have some amazing memories with her and I wish sometimes I could talk to her, but I know that wouldn’t be a wise decision and I know I miss something I can’t really create again and that we’re different people.

I think about friends from earlier in high school and some of them I wish I was close to and others not necessarily, but either way I wish I could change myself then and I wish I could have fixed everything for everyone.

I think about friends that don’t really talk to me now but still claim to be my friend and I wonder if I did something wrong, or if I know how to socialize properly, or if they just don’t like me, or if I’m too boring, or what the issue is. I wish I felt close to them.

I think about all the friends that did me wrong and I wish it hadn’t happened like that.

I think about newer friends I have now and how I feel excluded or not empathized with, and how they know nothing about me and they're not close to me and they leave me behind.

And at this time in my life, I feel no genuine connection and closeness to anyone. And I look for a past or a future that doesn’t exist. And I worry about them destroying me and the path I'm going on and the things I love.

-Cassandra Alexa

I feel like my sexuality has never belonged to me my whole life. I'm not fully open with anyone about all my experiences with abuse. Some closer friends know much more, but at the end of the day, I still haven't been able to let someone know about every single thing.

Most people wouldn't know. It's not something I'm necessarily trying to hide.

I feel like people wouldn't want to hear about it.

I always struggle with my depression and anxiety disorders and with suicidal thoughts or attempts or with trauma from many different things in my life and that depression is constant. I get to very low points.

I can't help everything that's happened in my life. I can't help feeling the way I do. But I always feel like I can't keep anyone around because no one wants to be around someone who's been through and still goes through so much and who feels like that constantly or is openly talking about that feeling or their experiences. I always feel like I have to make a choice between bullshitting being happy to keep people around or being honest and feeling what I feel and hoping I still have a friend in people when I do.

The truth is that I have been through a lot and it's not my fault, but I still have to pay the price with people around me leaving.

I feel like I've been through too much. And, just the other day, I reflected on my life and I discovered that my life had been stolen from me.

Even as a child, my sexuality didn't belong to me. It belonged to men who took my childhood along with my entire life with them. And, still to this day, it's the same case. I've just been through so much and I faced so much the one time I did try to get help, that now I feel like it's not even worth it to tell anyone and no one believes me and I don't want to be victim-blamed. I know I shouldn't care what people think, but I can't help but think if a man I liked knew about everything, he wouldn't like me or he would think I'm a slut or dirty or too used in some way or he would put blame on me or he wouldn't understand or he would think it's unattractive that I've been through so many things. And I live in fear of that every single day.

I once met another survivor of abuse who told me when I meet the right person, if I ever married someone, that I'll be in a place one day where I can be completely open about it and I can be comforted and I can be loved just the same. And I think about that and I don't know if I could have that. I can't imagine that.

For the longest, I didn't want to let myself even accept these truths. About anything in my life. I've been through many forms of abuse and many other things in my life and I never let myself even think about dealing with them until I was 18.

And no one would know it, but I cry every night to God and ask him why he let these people hurt me like that. I wonder why it happened to me. I wonder why my life has to be so bad. I wonder when I can ever escape this abuse. And I ask God why he's let everything destroy me and my life, why he let me get to a place where I feel like there's no return. I ask why I'm such a mess and why I can't pull myself together. I ask "What next?" because I feel done.

I don't want anyone to ever touch me again. I don't want anyone to ever see me naked again.

I have just been through so much abuse that I can't handle it anymore. I have nightmares and other scary experiences with these memories. I can still feel them on my skin. I still think about things. I still panic if a man hugs me or touches me in any way. Even male voices make me uncomfortable. I have unwanted thoughts all the time and it makes me feel afraid even though I know I'm safe. I feel like I've got accustomed to abuse. I feel destroyed by it. I just can't handle another person touching me.

I've only had two consensual, good, safe partners. The only partners I consider, as everything else is not experience I wished to have.

The first person was very emotionally, mentally, and verbally abusive to me. And it took me a long time to get myself out of that place and to let him go. But I have completely let him go and that's one thing I'm proud of.

The other one was my latest partner. He's not in my life anymore I guess. And I feel really hurt because I liked him and I thought he liked me. And even though in the end he broke my heart, I still remain grateful to him. Because he gave me something I never had before. That night, when he was holding me on his chest, I felt safe and happy, and I had never felt that way before from a sexual situation, from a "romantic" situation, or from a man in general. That was the way I've always wanted to feel. That was what should've always been my experience. And I'm glad he gave me that experience and I know he probably has no idea how much that meant to me, but it meant the world to me to be able to experience that.

I really wanted things to work out with him.

Every night, in general, I would pray to God about my experience with romance, which isn't much at all considering I've never had an actual boyfriend, but I'd still pray and ask that I could have "the one" and that would be my only and last experience with men. Because I can't take it anymore.

So, I thought to myself, if it works out with him and he for some reason ended up being that one, then perfect, and if not, then I can't continue on with pursuing romance because romance includes sexuality and I cannot mentally or physically handle another person touching me. I can't.

And it didn't work out with him, I guess. I mean if he wanted to talk to me, he could, and I'm sure he knows I'd let him back in, and he already knows I liked him. If he wanted to talk to or be with me, he would. So, I guess this means he's not coming back. And he's the only one I would want to be with.

Besides him, I'm just done with all of this.

Emotionally, I can't handle letting another person get close to me. I've tried before (most notably with these two men I was just talking about) and for what? To just get hurt?

I don't believe love exists. Because to be in love you need two people to feel the same way about each other and to treat each other good. And I've never seen that. I care about people. I think I am capable of loving another person and treating them good and keeping my promises and my love and good treatment and faithfulness forever, but I don't think they could also love me and treat me right and be faithful to me, especially not for the rest of their lives.

I don't trust anyone anymore and I don't believe I can find love in anyone new.

And I don't want to either. I am done emotionally as well.

After all the sexual abuse and heartbreaks (and emotional abuse from the first man) and other, extremely significant abuse that I can't talk about right now, I just give up on romance and sexuality. I don't want anyone to get close to me. I don't want anyone to touch me.

Even the thought of someone new or unwanted touching me makes me panic.

So, what now?

I guess I can't be a mother.

I think it would be difficult and I would be afraid to be a mother, but some part of me has always wanted to have a baby one day. I could adopt, but I know it's a very difficult and expensive process.

I don't know what I'll do.

I've always wanted to experience love and I guess I just wasn't designed to ever have it. It sucks because I feel like that's all I've ever wanted. Whether it comes to family or friends or someone romantic. I just wanted someone to love me.

But love is unattainable for me, I guess. And I can't rely on him coming back and I don't see myself ever becoming comfortable with anyone else touching me or getting close to me. Everyone tells me how I'm fine and how there's other fish in the sea and how I just have to go out and find someone new. But they don't understand how fucking impossible that is for me. They haven't been through the extremities of my abuse and life situations. They don't understand how weak and beaten up and terrified and sickened I feel. They don't understand that this last man was my final shot. That was it.

I cannot handle anything else. I don't see this changing any time soon.

My sexuality has never belonged to me. I wear the outfits I want and do my makeup how I want it honestly just because that's how I enjoy dressing and doing my makeup, and for literally no other fucking reason. I don't dress up for men. I don't dress up for an individual. I don't do it because I want attention. And most importantly, unlike what people love to say about me, I don't dress the way I do because I'm a "slut".

And it fucking pisses me off that all I want to do, all I want to fucking do, is just wear some fucking clothes and some fucking makeup I enjoy. That's it. And I can't even have that because people think they know my intentions with my clothes, they think they know best and they think they know I'm a whore. And they're fucking ignorant because they have no idea what the fuck I've been though. My clothes and my makeup are the last things in my entire life about my body or sexuality or image that belongs to me, that I can express. And even that, people try to take it and twist it. Fuck you.

How the fuck can you call me a "slut" because I want to wear this outfit when I literally plan on never sleeping with anyone again, when I've literally only had two consensual partners. You have no fucking idea the shit I've gone through, and I put on these clothes just for you to call me a fucking slut. After all the bullying about my image and body, and I finally get to a point where I want to dress how I want to dress just so you can tell me I'm a slut or that my body makes my outfits look slutty.

Fuck you.

Fuck all of the men that hurt me sexually. Fuck all the people that bullied me about my body and image. Fuck the emotional abuse I went through, fuck the shit I have to go through to this day that I can't talk about, fuck all that.

I've never belonged to myself.

I want to wear the outfits I want to wear. I want to wear the makeup I want. I want to make the film and music and writings I want. I want to paint. I want to expand my film and music taste and organize my collections of music and film. I want to find new directors, screenwriters, actors, musicians, artists, fashion designers, makeup artists, everything. I want to make a film. I want to push myself through getting my album out. I want to do designing with my art, fashion, makeup, future home, and many other aspects of my life. I want to get myself back into therapy. I want to heal. I want to be happy. I want to love myself and take care of myself. I want to expand my mind and experiences. I want to be at peace. I want to dive into philosophy. I want to explore comedy. I want to build my social life. I want to work on building the relationships I have with current friends and making new ones and building relationships with family members. I want to build my social skills up. I want to grow my relationship with God. I want to develop myself and become the best version of myself. I want to prepare myself for the future I want. I want to get my own place and car. I want to decorate everything I have and myself and my environment or home or belongings with the aesthetics I desire for my life. I want to expand my recipe book. I want to expand all my interests and abilities and collections in all the art forms I love. I want to listen to books and make collections of stories. I want to have games or video games or physical activities I can do. I want to conquer my academics. I want to thrive in my career. I want to learn languages. I want to learn new life skills. I want to polish my responsibilities. I want to work on my beauty plan and become the most physically beautiful version of myself. I want to expand my hobbies and activities. I want to give myself opportunities to be more festive or enjoy more events. I want to grow my flowers and other plants. I want all my interests to expand and to be the most full, tasteful person I can be and have that organized throughout my life. I want to be the person I've always wanted to be and the person they wish they could have or be.

I want to become so full of my person that I feel like I am myself, that I feel like I belong to myself.

That's the only thing I think there is to do.

-Cassandra Alexa