I understand that my ex needs his space. I understand that my friends do not want to deal with my problems for me. I understand that I need to help myself, I really do, and that's why I joined this forum, to help myself. But, I do not need somebody to tell me that they want me in their life, and then proceed to attempt to erase my existence. That only amplifies the urge to erase my own existence. The urge to completely erase all of the pain I have. The pain of being sexually assaulted three times in my life, the pain of going through an abusive relationship, and the pain of losing another lover. These past two weeks have been Hell. My boyfriend left me, my mother told me my problems weren't real when I told her about my concern for my well being. She told me to suck it up, get over it, when I told her I felt suicidal. I was then raped the following Sunday at a party, and then victim blamed/slut shamed the following morning. That was my breaking point. A person can only take so much before they break. Do not tell me I am strong, for I am weak. I have no capability of happiness any longer. Whatever is left in my heart, is unusable, for it has been damaged beyond repair. You may be there for me, you may tell me that I’m not alone, and people really do care, but only I have the ability to believe that they do, and I shan't do that any longer. The emotional turmoil I have suffered, these painstakingly long and treacherous eighteen years of life I have lived, have simply destroyed me. My soul is trapped in the cage of my corpse, and I need to release it. Madness has scalded my throat and misery has scorched my stomach, leaving me unable to consume emotions. Anxiety has eroded my teeth, and frustration has gnawed at my vocal chords, making my voice unusable. My lungs are coated in the mucus of regret, preventing me from breathing. My heart is ridden with tumors of heartache and abuse. My blood cells are clotted with anger. My muscles are exhausted from having to carry the burden of my existence. My spine is slowly disintegrating, under the pressure of perfection. My brain is drowning in the fluids of doubt and fear, and is damaged beyond repair. My soul is trapped in the rotting corpse, and it needs out.