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Sunday, April 4, 2010

I. Hate. My. Parents.

I am fully aware of how angsty that sounds, but I'm beyond the point of caring. They bitch and complain to me that I'm not taking things seriously. So I try to sit down and have a serious conversation with them, and they belittle me to the point of tears.

I'm just trying to become my own person. And I want to do that before I get to college. I want to have myself figured out by then. But when I try to do anything in this mother fucking house, I get shut down and then made fun of, as though wanting to be my own person is something worthy of reprimand. I don't want to go to college and lash out so badly that I have to come crawling home. I'm so tired of being under my parents' thumb. I'm going to go insane. These are the reasons I still cut. It's right in front of their faces. I come to them with a reasonable request. I mean, they're lucky I came to them before I went and did it.

They just... I told John yesterday that I want to be a happy person. That I'm tired of being depressed, I want to look at life with a positive attitude. But my parents... My parents do whatever they can to make sure I'm unhappy. I can't make it through the next 4 months.


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