Venting on a Difficult Night

I'm really feeling this song lately...and the lyrics made me cry, so I hope you'll read them (I've attached the link to them below):

http://songmeanings.com/songs/view/3530822107858747139/

You're reading/listening because I'm writing rather than picking.

Sometimes I feel dead inside. And so, so alone. For most of 2013, I've felt like I've been starving for love and acceptance. So much of what I was taught and so much of what I've hoped for has turned out to be an illusion and a fantasy that can never be made reality. In the real world, people betray you. They leave when they say they'll stay, or overstay their welcome. They're selfish enough to think that they have all the answers, and that if you don't agree with them, not only are you less of a person, but you're one who will be punished. People have skeletons in their closet. Life is not all it's cracked up to be. New York is just another dirty, smelly city full of  bored people wishing for bigger and better things once you see past the flashing lights. Golden beaches with vacation houses don't make everything else into paradise. Darkness can exist there too. People lie. People use you, no matter how much you try to stay out of trouble. People bring destruction into your life and leave you to clean up the mess. They have two faces. They come with a fleet of bedbugs. They weave the strands of their own agenda around you and trap you inside a cocoon until you've changed for the worse. I feel hopeless tonight. Not because I have issues, but because I see issues. Too many for me to solve. I'm having a difficult time finding something to look forward to when so much is fucked up. Sometimes it's hard to see the silver lining when the silver is tarnished and there's a blanket of fog blurring your vision.

How did I get here? Feeling like I've been run over by a hundred-car train. Am I being punished? I was a good baptist girl. God smiled down on me because I was pure, and innocent, and had good intentions. And then devastation came. I always knew Santa wasn't real, and didn't understand why so many children were torn to pieces when they learned "Santa" was just their parents trying to get them to be good with the promise of gifts....Until I learned the same thing about God; he was just my parents' way of trying to get me to be good with the promise of pearl gates and golden streets. What a shame that I don't care for pearls, and I much prefer bronze. To them, it's dirty like me. Even though I'm still that innocent girl with good intentions, I'm a booze chugging, weed-smoking whore who wears her clothes way too tight. Because a worldly size 3 needs to be hidden in shame beneath size 7 jeans. Because having people in my life who choose to use substances automatically makes me a user and abuser too.

I'm tired of this.

I have to get out of here.

Love me for what I am and who I am.

Or walk away and never come back.