I left to start my life.
It's been six years since I left my family, the state they live in. I visited twice a year if that, usually for about 3-4 days at a time. Now I decided to visit for a month due to traveling I'll be doing and I have one week left and wonder how the fuck I never killed myself here.
I'm so crushed just being here. I feel like they're killing me, my soul. I've been mocked, outright insulted, marginalized, ignored, guilted, pressured, yelled at, screamed at, and even refused medical care. I'm crying silently in my old room right now wondering if I ever want to come here ever again.
I don't.
My soul is bruised. I feel like if I could get away, I wouldn't. I'd just lay here crying. I'm an empathetic person and there's just so much hate and sadness and guilt and selfishness coming off of these people all the time. It's like being surrounded by crying, devastated children and wondering how they can live like this and how you can ever get over it.
EDIT
I just realized that the longer I'm here, the more I wish to kill myself. I would go somewhere to get help but I know this will pass once I leave and I don't want it to jeopardize future endeavors. They are a quagmire of mental demons and they wish to pull me in, too, because that's all they know. I don't even think they can act maliciously, they just are, they exist and I don't know how. I got out, my aunt told me how happy she was that I got out from this, that I left and went far, far away from it, to the other side of the whole country to become me. She said it was sad to see me go but she was happy I left because she saw it was killing me, suffocating me. I can't come back here.

