Left Behind

Everything's so different from what it used to be. I've always been very independent. I went off to college on my own and lived in a family's basement by myself. I know how to cook and all that stuff. Since I moved back home however, I've become very dependent on my dad. I struggle if he's gone for even a night. I just feel so alone because he's usually all I have.
One such night recently, my dad was away and I decided to read through my journals, find out where I was this time last year. That was quite depressing. Seeing everything and everyone I had that I lost just three months later. I wanted so badly to go back and warn myself of what was coming, but I can't. It's hard feeling that I don't matter. I try on occasion to get back in touch with the friends I had, but they never respond. I haven't heard from them since January or February. I've slipped from their life and they don't intend to put me back. I even find myself wanting to push those I have now away, cut off communication before they do because it will be less painful if I do it instead of waiting for them. So many people have told me they'll always be there and I can always go to them. Whenever anyone tells me that now, my immediate thought is 'for how long?'
I feel like such a financial and time-consuming burden. I feel like no one cares. I see people sharing and aiding in little things that don't really matter on Facebook. There are fundraisers at school all year. Don't I matter? My gofundme medical support fund has stopped last month at $478. With a goal of $12,000 it just doesn't add up. At times I honestly wish I would just die. Please note at this time I am not suicidal and will never take my life. I just wish something else would do it for me...I don't have any desire to go to Hell, however I sometimes can't help feeling I'm already there. I've been there for a long time and how truly lonely it is. A place where people forget you even exist. Where you're not surrounded by people at work or school, where you are truly and nearly constantly alone. Nine months now. People say they understand how I feel, that they're lonely too. But they're not and they don't.
People tell me I've been like this for a while, done. Given up. But I'm still here, I'm still going. That doesn't mean anything. Only that my torture continues. It doesn't mean I'm overcoming or enduring. I'm just existing and only barely. I've long lost wishes and hopes for better days because nothing will ever be the same and perhaps I'm doomed to remain in this little town with no one but my dad and doctors, a tube sticking out of my arm and medications that make me sick. No support, no help, no love. Just this. 
I think it's driving me crazy because I am getting better. Sometimes I have more energy, I'm not feeling as sick as I used to. Yet there's still nothing to do and no one to be with. A wild animal shouldn't be confined to a cage. I want to live again.

My Venting Machine

This is a vent, not a pity train, not an attention seeker, you've been warned.

I moved back home December 24th, 2014. A result of sequences that came after sexual assault. A time in my life where there was no one there for me. When I finally for the first time asked for help and was turned away. I'd never before felt so alone, unloved. I was a burden that no one wanted to deal with, forced upon my father because he had to love me. With no mother for support in a time when I really needed it I felt very lost.

 My amazing daddy has been there through it all, the counseling and recovery from the trauma and now the new battle I'm fighting with my illness that has recently been diagnosed. He loves me unconditionally and tries his very hardest to make sure I have all I need and even a bit of what I want. The only person in the world I had during my darkest hour and the only person in the world I know will always be there.

Here, let me help you gain some perspective. Since December 24th, until today, August 21st, I have spent the majority of my time isolated in my house, sleeping, just laying in bed, watching tv... I have on seldom occasion been able to spend a few hours with a friend or even go on a date, however this usually consists of several hours of travel on my part which has grown harder with each passing month. I get tired so easily and it has become dangerous. This also makes me feel trapped as I can't just go for long drives or escape.
I live in a small town where the biggest store is Walmart, where everyone, upon graduating high school, makes a quick getaway to college. Hey, I did too.
I'm lonely often. I can't help but feel forgotten. I sort of just vanished from everyone's life and they all seem to accept and be ok with it. Yes, I have people I text, I use facebook, I even have the dreaded Tinder (kind of pointless as there's no one within a 50 mile radius of me). But these cannot and will never replace a good afternoon spent talking and laughing with someone. Social media is anything but social. I get depressed seeing only my dad and doctor for weeks, especially when I can't make church.
I've been reminded so often of how weak I've become, what I can no longer do. Things I took for granted. Going to school, having a job... How I can no longer pick up a bucket of cat litter when I used to be able to carry two.
When I went to Lagoon for the second time in my life, remembering the roller coasters with excitement and anticipation, I soon discovered any and every ride made me ill. The chair lift even.
My fascination has always been water, swimming in lakes, rivers, and pools. But now it's so cold to my body that I'm confined to the hot tub. Going for a long walk no matter how gentle and slow paced can leave me tired and ill for a couple of days.
Then there's always the catch when I get to eat out. Chuck-a-rama or Costa Vida or Golden Corral... Buffets or places where I love the food. Where I want to eat as much as possible. Where I become very violently ill. But how can I justify paying $15 for an all-you-can-eat buffet and only eating five bites? When I want to try everything and then go back for seconds on the things I liked and finally have dessert. Life has lost its joy.
I feel ugly. My face is so riddled with acne, sores and scars. It's a constant battle of if I should focus on ridding my face of the acne or healing the sores? I can't do both at once. Putting healing creams on creates more acne, getting rid of acne creates more sores. The never ending cycle.
So I cake on the make-up and get all fancy. I take pictures of myself and have fun modeling.
Only then do I feel beautiful when I've posted them on Facebook and people like and comment on them. 
I try to stay positive and keep going, sometimes becoming discouraged when I realize I've been receiving IV therapy for a couple of months now with little improvement. How the three hour round trips twice a week really wear me out and the fluids make me nauseous.
This is me. A 19 year old who has never had a friend for more than two years, got asked on her first date only after she'd lost weight, has never had a mother... A girl who is easily forgotten.