Remorse

I have been so cruel, so very cruel you can't imagine. I hope you can't, for your sake. I still don't think I'm quite a sociopath either, although I do strongly believe I have some strong traits of that condition. Cause it's not normal at all to lie and deceive like I do, it's definitely not normal to commit a sex crime at the age of 9. Or that... I really hope isn't normal. For the sake of humanity if not else. I was born wrong, I grew up wrong. And I was shaped from then on, I don't think I could have come out anything else than a mess as an adult with a childhood like that.

Would I, could I ever say it out loud, that I've committed a sex crime? In any situation, I mean. What would people think of me, what would K think of me, if he ever got to know? What would my best friend think? My mother? I've kept it from literally everyone I know thus far but I think, that little by little I somehow come to accept it. That I was too young to understand what I was doing, I literally had no idea what so ever.

And does it matter that I was raised as female? Perhaps some of you forgot that in all this mess. Cause a young boy doing something like that is just plain awful, but society would still be able to understand it. But a young girl? Or well, I wasn't technically a girl even then, but that was how society thought of me, saw me and raised me as. I don't blame my gender for what I did. I don't really blame it on anything, but sometimes I think about that. That I was entirely female bodied and still managed to do such a thing, a thing so common in male culture, if you can phrase it like that.

Of course, of bloody course there are female sex offenders too, that's not what I'm saying. Good riddens no! I'm only saying it's not as common and no ever expects a female or a female bodied person to do any such things. It's culture and it's this fucked up society. When it all comes down to it, we're all human beings to at least some degree no matter what gender we are. And maybe we all have that somewhere inside us, the possibility, I mean, to commit any kind of crime. I do think so, that the darkness hangs over all of us and it's just different from person to person how it affects us.

I'm trying to look at it somewhat objectively. That I did something incredibly wrong by human standards and the only reason I even mention my gender is because that's even more taboo and unexpected. I hope you understand that, and that you can see my point of view. Anyone can commit any kind of crime, I'm just trying to tell you my own story and my own thoughts about it. How it's affected me over these last 17 years.

It's something I always have to live with, and very few days pass without me thinking "what have I done?" especially when I look straight into the eyes of my victim. Yeah, I still see them, I still know them, I have to. And it just stabs me in the heart, cause I'm also pretty sure they can't remember anything from that event. They were too young and I was too cruel. Maybe it's best they don't remember, for their sake, and that's one of the reasons I don't want to just start telling people about this.

Honestly I can't know for sure what would be best for them, but I'm always feeling uneasy in their presence. I would never hurt them again, that's for fucking sure, but I am always always so cautious. I'm afraid I might even be too cautious and that they'll some day ask what the fuck is wrong with me. But another fact is that I still blame myself for them being asexual too.

I feel like I've destroyed so much. An entire person and I wonder what they would have been like now if I had never done it. Perhaps everything would have been different. And somehow I'm glad that I suffer so much for what I did, that I really, really do deserve it and it's more than right. But I can't ever take punishment for it, other than what I can and will do to myself.

I don't know if I should ever let that information come out somehow, or if I should take it with me to the grave. What would be best for them? I have thought of just leaving a simple "I'm sorry for what I did to you" in my future suicide letter but then just leave it at that. I don't want to stir up a chaos if it's not necessary, even worse if I did and people would think I only came clean for my own sake. That would be terrible. But if I'd have one last act of remorse right before I die or something I could put down in my future suicide letter, what would that be?

I just don't want to make their life worse. I want to do something right but I don't have that many options that I can think of. Maybe the answer will come to me eventually, but time is ticking. And I know I have to process this one way or another so that this won't be my reason for suicide. I have other reasons, so many reasons, but that would feel wrong somehow. And what on Earth would I say to K the day my time is up? I most likely wouldn't mention this. I'd likely somehow send him a private letter, but I have a sensation that my words will fail me, that I won't be able to explain anything.

I only have three suicide letters in mind: one for my family and remaining friends, just a huge general one, one for my best friend and one for K. I might have something else in mind too, but I won't reveal what exactly that is. Plans... yeah, I try to set some vague plans around my suicide, but I still haven't found a method other than jumping and I have no idea where I would jump from. Likely somewhere in Uppsala though.

I just really want to make sure I have everything set when that day comes, sometime probably around early summer next year. It won't be before April, that's for sure at least. It's like I can only live now, knowing that I'm going to die soon. It's like a comfort, something to look forward to. And at the same time it's tearing me apart, that I won't get to live longer than that. But the more time that passes, the less and less that matters. The tearing becomes less intense and just imagining the breeze in my hair, sitting on that roof, wearing my suicide clothes, it calms me.

My make-up is running and my heart bleeds. I wish life was ever worth living, but it never was, it never was. I could never live for myself, I never wanted to live. "It gets better" they said but fuck they couldn't have been more wrong. It only got worse. I feel like binging and purging so fucking bad but I really shouldn't. I just don't care, yet I do. Just take it one hour at a time, or just one freaking minute. Breathe. Remember your goal, focus on it, you can do it. Breathe.