Dead on The Inside

I debated on deleting the last post. I debated on not writing another. Growing up in group homes and foster homes there was always a common trend. The people who cried loudly for attention. Now I am going to sound like a huge bitch here, but I am going to be honest. Those attention seekers ruined most of my time in foster care. They proclaimed their want to commit suicide even though all they would do is bitch and moan when people weren’t giving them the overwhelming attention that they demanded. They talked about their woes to anyone within ear shot. I imagine these attention seekers are the ones who grew up to complain about their drama every day on facebook.

So the idea of me writing my problems on a daily basis for a bunch of strangers feels a bit like those attention seekers who took up the staff at my group homes so quieter kids like myself never got attention.

Sadly, I’ve gotten to the point where I feel dead inside. Like nothing matters. Like every feeling and emotion, all of my wants and desires, they are just gone. I don’t know how to get any of it back. I don’t know how not to feel empty. I want my motivation back. I want my will to carry on back. I want my life back. So I guess this is my venting space. No one will probably read it anyway, and it’s better than bitching and moaning on facebook every day.

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