![]() ![]() My first suicide attempt took place at 9 years old. I started crying and hugging my cat every morning wishing that we could trade places so that I could stay home, feel safe, and not carry the burden of expectation for the coming day. Just typing this out is making me upset, so I'll move on.Īfter that, elementary school. Watching them leave me, over and over, every day. I was passed off to the sitter while sobbing every morning. But most of my day was spent completely detached from them, they worked so much that often I was in daycare from like 6 am till 7 or 8 pm. I really wish that my parents had considered that "the village" necessary to raise a child ALSO INCLUDED THEM. I just wanted to be at home and spend time with my family. I hated it, I hated never having the option to opt out. ![]() I would rage and scream cry every morning when I woke up because I knew I had to leave home and go to daycare so my parents could go to work. LIFE, I have had extreme aversion to "have to's." Especially the big ones, the every day "you don't have a choice" things in life.įirst, it was daycare. I didn't know that this part of me had a name until maybe a week ago.
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