I don’t know what I’m feeling at the moment. There are so many emotions I can’t pick them out. I just want to scream or just run away. It seems I’m good at the latter, or so my friends like to tell me. What can I say to something like that? I mean, I grew up with a family that taught me, no matter how hard they try to argue it, to not confront something that is annoying me, that I should never talk back, that I should never do anything.
Today, my mother has been asking me, “Why did you dry this?” “Did you really want this thing any smaller?” “You shrunk this.” I know that doesn’t sound like very much, but the way she says it, like I’m stupid or something. I admit I have my moments, but doesn’t everybody? But god forbid should you point out my mother’s. That’s a sin; it just has to be.
When she said, “Did you really want this thing any smaller?” I replied with a very annoyed tone, “Yes, mom. Okay?!” Then she asks me, “What’s wrong with you today?” I reply (because she has told me to be honest with her, and I didn’t even give her any attitude this time) “You’re annoying me right now.” Then, being the bitch she is says, “Who gives a shit what you think? I’m folding your laundry, you should be happy.” I reply, “I never asked you to, though.” Then she stops talking and stomps out of the room. Now who is being the immature one? Really? What if I were to take out who said what? Exactly.
She makes me feel as small as I can and then blames my father (whom I’ve never lived with and I haven’t seen him since February) or my sister (who helps me more than that female parental unit ever did). I mean, why don’t you take responsibility for your actions like you always tell me to do?
My therapist is always saying to tell my mother what I’m thinking as does my mother, but then when I do, I get belittled and put down! I shouldn’t have to live with this!
Even if my father is a complete drunk and I could never see myself living at his dirty house, I would rather live there than here.
And I know it sounds bad, but I’d rather die than to live here in this hell.
I want to talk to a therapist again, but if I tell my mother that she’ll freak out especially after I told her I accidentally burnt my forearm yesterday from cooking pizza. She’ll think I did it on purpose, which I didn’t!
I can’t even think straight anymore. I’m trying to do my homework as I write this but I can’t focus because I can’t stop thinking about ways to murder my mother.
Great, now I’m thinking about suicide. Nice work, mom. You always know how to make me feel like shit or worse. I mean, that would be the perfect present for mother’s day, no? Your daughter kills herself on the day that she was supposed to hug you and make you feel special, and she kills herself because of you nevertheless. Oh, wait! I can make it even better! With your medication!
Sounds perfect to me. I want to make my mother feel like shit. I want her to see what she does to me. I want her to die inside and want to kill herself. She fucking deserves it.
“My daughter has gone through that ‘depression’ stage.” She’s talking to her friend a few weeks ago, “Yeah, your daughter sounds like she is just entering it, but mine has already gone through it, so you can always ask me questions. I've been through it.” What have you been through mom? Tell me? Oh, your daughter tried to kill herself, that's right. Damn, that must have been so painful. Have you even stopped to asked what your daughter was feeling? Of course not, your a mother, you already know!
She has the audacity to showcase it like she's the perfect parent who knows everything? How about this mom: I brought a butcher's knife to your neck once? Did you know? Oh, and how about that time I swallowed 20 aspirin and couldn't even get myself out of bed? You knew about that right? Oh wait, you didn't even care to look to see if I was staying home sick or going school.
Is it bad that I believe my life would be so much better if she died? Yeah, after I pass that initial shock of it all, I think so.
My sister even said to me this weekend while my mother was in Nags Head, “No wonder both her kids have mental problems. She’s a bitch.”
My sister told me I could stay at her house when she moves out any time I need to get away. The only downfall is then I will really start to hate where my mother lives.
My mother is so fucking stupid for another reason too. I keep telling her I’ll never wear a bikini without board shorts. And that I’ll never where shorts in general, like jean ones or whatever. But she never catches on to why that is. Obviously I have a serious problem with my legs.
I think I need a week from school to clear my head. I know I can’t though because of these bitch ass SOLs. English is just fucking with me right now and I hate it right now.
I’m fucking through with trying to get the Japanese Club together and I’m going to tell Ericka on Tuesday that I don’t want to be in it anymore. I can’t fucking take the shit I get for being the president and I’m sick of it.
I think I need to cool down. I’m going for a very long walk.
Don't you want to save me? Even a little? No, of course not. You can't even see my pain. | 
