By Anon.
“Dear reader, I should say something on your topic but when would I say? That abortion is murder? That abortion is a right? That females can just get pregnant and heckle their way out just the same way they got to bed or should I say accidentally? Or maybe it’s for health purposes, funny how the society justifies that. Or maybe they got pregnant because they were raped, maybe this is a ground for abortion, but is it really now? Honestly I don’t know what’s wrong with everyone. On one side they support abortion, on the other they are against it. Anyways I wouldn’t care anyway because sometimes you don’t abort and all the demons swoop in. I for one wish I was aborted, but this is just my opinion and I don’t want you pitying me. I’m fine the way I am and my wish still stays the same. If I could tell this to my parents I’m so sure there wouldn’t be a reaction, so here goes nothing.
Well it’s obvious I was born or I wouldn’t be writing today. I’ve been breathing but dying at the same time for nineteen years now. I’ve been holding on to nothing for so long, and I have nothing to live for. Everyday is a reminder that I wasn’t supposed to exist, every second is pointless. But no, this isn’t a suicide note, if that’s what you’re thinking.
For years it has been obvious that I wasn’t supposed to be alive, thanks to my highly religious hypocritical asshole of a sperm donor and surrogate I call parents. Being the second last born in a family of five should’ve made life easier, I mean c’mon it’s not like I was the reason they got married anyways and I got two older brothers plus I’m not the last born. I think my family is full of assholes because even my siblings are useless. Home was never home, school was better than home and more than once I wished I’d stay in school but I couldn’t. Every morning for the past nineteen years has been hell even though there was no physical evidence of my hell.
The torture was special, the kind that screwed me up emotionally and mentally. The type that got me trying to kill myself, trying to run away from everything but apparently life really loves me af. If I’m to count the number of times I tried to end it, you’ll be bored. The torture that came with being an unwanted pregnancy turned child was hell. It was a silent if I was paying for being born, and for me the days were darker than the nights and nights were nicer than the days.
I’m mentally screwed, I admit that. I mean who wouldn’t. I didn’t ask to be conceived but look at me now, I’m grown ha-ha. Everyday I have to live with the fact that I’m unwanted, that I’m not needed, that I’m a waste of space even death doesn’t want me, but what can I do except eat away. I’m going crazy by day just thinking of a way out. Someone would think that change occurs when you grow up, but what you don’t understand is the impact of the environment around us. The sad part is that I can’t even hate my parents, because how would I when all I see is me being the problem? How when I hate myself every single day?
In all honesty I don’t care what people think about abortion. What pisses me off is the fact that people get together, have unprotected sex, and the woman has to make a choice. Why would someone make two lives hard at the second time? What’s the point of conceiving when you don’t want it, what’s the point of taking care of the pregnancy for a while then having to wake up suddenly and having to make the choice of life or death. Why the f#ck would anyone want that. Anyways, my opinion is that y’all can f#ck yourselves, but at least use common sense while at it, I’m mentally screwed but I wouldn’t wish the life I live for anyone.
Just my two cents, f#ck responsibly. And I don’t care whether you hate me, love me or pity me, I don’t give a rats ass. Be f#cking responsible. f#ck. “
Well damn, all opinions are welcome.
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