Is it wrong to think about giving up?
I don’t even know how to explain the depth of this question…I’m a grown man that has somehow made it to over 4o years old and have nothing to my name except a job and the parental responsibility of my 2 wonderful but young sons. I suffered tragedy twice at a very young age that in my opinion has left me with severe mental trauma. I was firstly, When I was FIVE I was Hit in the face with a softball size rock that was shout out of a lawnmower my mother was using to cut the yard while I played on the swing set…It broke me up..completely blinded me in one eye, put me in a coma and just really messed me up, Left me with Mental and physical disabilities that still plague my life at over 40 years old..Some time later when I was 6 she went to her cake baking lesson and was killed in a traffic accident…So I was left dealing with still being messed up from the accident and now I have lost My mother…I think the issues I was left with in most ways went completely unnoticed and untreated. My poor father…Trying to figure out what the hell just happened. He had 4 kids, Working full time, Also dealing with the injury to me and now on his BIRTHDAY his wife ends up killed in this accident..I was only a kid and was probably in shock from everything that was happening…Memories are hit and miss with a lot of it now at my age. I think over the years directly following her death I started to master a skill of compressing my feelings and just sucking them down…I learned to use various ways of venting them off in private…It was more like just feeling all the pain alone…I never spoke to anyone about my pain. Kids at school were HORRIBLE. I was placed into learning disabled classes in elementary school as tho the issues I were having in school were In my head. The other kids went on to torment me until I dropped out in 9th grade. I was a very small and awkward young boy that was beat up, stolen from, ridiculed about everything from my eye, my ears (they were big i guess) My shoes, (my dad had 4 kids on his own and couldn’t afford the expensive shit that all the rich farmer brats had) They made fun of me about my size…Even the girls would hit me, kick me or find some other ways to make fun of me. I FEARED going to school to the point i would do ANYTHING to avoid going…I sat in learning disabled classes hiding from the other kids…I felt like a rat that was dropped into a snakes cage every single day that just luckily escaped everyday just to get beat up on the bus because my lazy eye made me look funny. I hated the kids…I still to this day hate those kids. I see them as adults now and I still want to punch them in their now fat faces. This all turned into a life for me that’s been filled with drugs, hate,love, sex, and a lot of misery. for so many years I have survived…I have recently lost so much. I am so tired and just want to rest. My kids will never understand what I was or who I am…There is absolutely no one left on this planet that knows me to tell them. I will totally die when I die. The memories of me will only exist in the memories of those that have chosen to hold on to something that reminds them of something…some portion of me they thought was who I was because that’s what they knew. Is it wrong for me to want to die? At what point would it be acceptable for me to say that I have done enough and struggled enough? Is it wrong for me to want to die? Is it wrong for me to want to give up? Is it wrong for me to thing about giving up?