Completely Shattered. Again

How can I be so dang clueless?
So chatting with a friend on my app. Talking about driving. Not speeding. Following the rules. Which leads me down a road to the fact that I'm still meeting expectations.
Whose?
Everyone's I guess.
If I'm good enough maybe they won't leave. If I fit the image they have of me they won't leave.
Why would it work? It's never worked.
Hell, it shouldn't work.
I need to be me.
I don't even know who I am. I can't find me under all the dang blood.
It's friggin every where.
It took over twenty five years to realize my parents leaving GA when I was 19 hurt like hell.
(Sorry it's R rated tonight.)
I thought I was fine. I was married, on my own. Why would it matter that they left? Why would it matter when they divorced that my mother said there was no reason to come back to GA.
Why would it matter that Daddy came back and then left again?
Why would it matter that my mother said she had no reason to come visit GA?
My most recent analogy is that I'm not scarred at all.
I am covered in stab wounds and they never stopped bleeding. There was never time to heal or scar.
All my work colleagues leaving
Stabbed over
My church splitting
stabbed over
My best friend getting married and not needing me
stabbed over
Our other best friend leaving the state
stabbed over
The other half of my heart falling out of my life
stabbed over
The addict screwing me over
stabbed over
HSSH and the divorce
stabbed over
My parents leaving
stabbed over
my whole childhood.
I am so SCREWED
Now. Here I am. Alone. Screwed. Realizing I do still have to be alone. I have to heal. I don't think I can do that with someone.
So alone it is.
With God. Only He can heal and save
WILL I LET HIM?
I'm going to try.
1 forward and 15 back is still progress.
#irisswiftdepression