Rejection, as my worst fear, the core of all my emotional issues, that is most painful in my opinion. Going from foster home to foster home, never truely knowing if the people taking you in will "truely" love and care for you out of want, instead of out of them having to because it's required by law. Bouncing from home to home, never truely knowing if that home will be permanent, or if your friends you make will stay.
Those people you considered inseparable friends, ditching you because of some fucking rumor and completely ignoring you without explanation or warning. Your best friend/crush, suddenly giving you the cold shoulder and snapping at you for saying "Das me" at something a cartoon character did on TV. Out of the blue glares that sends chills down your spine, and the feeling that you have to step to the side with your head bowed so you don't see their cold gaze that was once lit up with joy and welcoming every time they saw you walk into the room. Those venomous words as she says your name that once held a blissful chime when they laughed with you.
The dread that the family that took you in when you couldn't live with your own parents because of medical issues, doesn't even care about your mental health as they constantly point out every flaw and degrade you till you nothing more than a sobbing mess. They don't stop, even when you're shrieking at them to please stop because you feel your heart crushing itself in the attempt to stop hurting, to stop those icy words from puncturing your heart, from letting those words define who you are. When even as you've gone quite and numb, not responding as the are yelling at you two inches from your face as you stare with half-lidded dull eyes, steadily submitting to the darkness taking over your mind. Even as they tell you that they'll be happier when you are eighteen so you can leave and stop being a nuisance, you say nothing.
Looking into the back window of the car as you're being taken by CPS from your family, wondering why, but never getting the answer until you hear them say two years later that they couldn't handle you anymore.
That feeling of mistrust as you look at the people in your life and realize, you can never truely trust them to be there for you, because everyone wears a mask. Even when they chant that they are honest, you still feel that lingering doubt that they lie.
That feeling of never being enough, and knowing that you are a burden to everyone you meet. That your issues don't matter, your life doesn't matter, your feelings don't matter, your fears. Don't. Matter.
That feeling that you'll never be loved by anyone, and that realization that you are slowly fading away and no one is doing anything to stop it.
I hate myself today, for still fearing this. I just want it to stop. I relapsed and now new marks are on my skin. But not once has anyone actually asked why, they just accused me of wanting attention and being self-centered.
Yes, I hate myself. Yes, I'm currently depressed. Yes, I want to die.