yesterday's sad post

Yeah so remember what I said about not being depressed. I take that back. 

It's been, what, three weeks of school? And I mean it liberally, today was literally the first day of the third week. My mother's been going on and on about me studying. Or rather, more specifically, the fact that she doesn't see me study. 

And she kept going on and on and dear fucking god. I just spent twelve hours at school and I have things to do and she wouldn't give me one fucking moment of peace. She literally followed me around going on and on about that one stupid thing and wouldn't even let me close the door on her. Like, fuck it, how many clues do you need to understand that someone really doesn't fucking want you around.

God I really couldn't fucking stand it, she was driving me up the fucking wall. So I basically squished the door almost-shut on her. By that point I didn't really care if I hurt her or slammed her fingers or toes or anything, she's not that stupid and inexperienced that she'd really let herself get hurt. It was more of a message to her to get the flying fuck away from me.

The fact that this has happened for what seems to be about two million times should be an indication that something is not fucking okay. It's not like I've never told her anything. I tell her all the time that I do my work, it's just that I'm never home and she's never home when I am and logically it means that she'll pretty much never see me do work and dear fucking god I have explained this to her a thousand times.

As I type this my should is hurting somewhere inside and this is because she started hitting me really hard and I started screaming like DEAR GOD STOP HITTING ME FUCK SOMEONE COME AND HELP like idk maybe MY DAD??????? But she just kept hitting me harder and it wasn't like my butt or legs or anything, where I had fats to protect myself. She hit me in the head, grabbed my hair, kicked me in the back, so on and so forth. After a while I basically slid down onto the floor and she just kept hitting me dear fucking god I'm very sure she hit my spine.

This whole fucking thing was because she kept going on and on and on and I was like "get away from me", "why do I even come home" because seriously if I'm going to get this stressed in my fucking HOUSE I might as well just sleep on the streets?? Stay at school?? 

I already go home pretty much just to sleep for a while and then go back to school. 

When I'm stressed out it's like there's this bell ringing inside my head, and it gets higher and higher in frequency and rings faster and faster until finally there's nothing but stupid fucking high-pitched ringing and I'm about to fucking smash something.

Except not really because I'll still be lucid enough to recognise that throwing glass is a stupid fucking idea and punching laptops is also fucking stupid and kicking someone's spine is perhaps the stupidest of all. Bloody fucking hell my mother makes me so angry I had to pause for a while to breathe just then.

My shoulder still hurts, by the way. I'm not sure if it's a bruise or a sprain but I can't roll my shoulders. It hurts. I'm pretty sure I can deal with this but motherfuck I don't want to deal with this I don't I don't I fucking don't. As long as I'm alive and no one's calling the police or the ambulance I'm coping yes? I can always deal but fuck. I don't want to. I don't want to deal with anything.

I am so upset about everything. My shoulder hurts and I really don't want to be injured. Just thinking about my mother sends my blood pressure spiking up and I don't want to go home any more. I thought I wasn't going to get depressed again but my willpower apparently doesn't work because I just thought about hurling myself off a building if I just don't want to deal with shit and I pictured it and I thought "damn that'll feel good".

(Ten minutes later I read this again and I will not commit suicide. I will not. Suicide is not for me. I will not fucking commit suicide godammit there are things I want to do.)

I hate that I'm sitting behind the door in case my mother gets the key and tries to open to door to talk at me some more or hit me some more. I hate that I don't want to be home because then what do I do where do I go why is this happening. I hate that it's been half a fucking hour and I can't stop crying like I have school tomorrow I can't be crying now

I just dragged out the full length mirror to check my shoulder and there's this huge lump. So it's swollen. Godfuckingdammit I don't need this now. Great. Fucking wonderful. I don't know what to put on it and I don't know where anything is anyway. I only know what's in my room and I only have hand cream and plasters and neither can do shit for my shoulder. 

I can't fucking stop crying. I had such a wonderful childhood. I don't know when that nice family turned into this stupid family that doesn't care if I'm injured. I don't understand how my father can hear me screaming and see my mother kicking my back and shush us and then walk away. I don't understand how my mother, who was a nurse, and tells me tons of stories about people who have accidentally fatally injured their friend by patting them once too hard on their back, can hit me in the spine again and again. 

Fuck, I don't know anything any more. It's all so stupid. Yeah I know the world is stupid and fucked up and I'm being naive but are you honestly saying that nothing anyone says is worth anything when they're angry. Don't they see the fucking irony oh god there's enough irony for ten literature books. 

I don't think anyone's given a fuck about my injuries since a few years back. I didn't have any serious injuries anyway, but it kinda stings when your parents dismiss your injuries you know. It might not be life-threatening but it sure as hell hurts and I would like some fucking sympathy.

So I'm sitting here typing this without a shirt and my shoulder fucking hurts. I'm probably not going to do anything about it and just let it fade away slowly. It's such a bother to see a doctor. It's awkward, costs money, etc. I'm just whining about it because it hurts and it's inconvenient and I really need neither of those ever.

I want to be angry too. I want to be violent too. When do I get to beat someone up? I don't want to just scream and cry for the rest of my life. I want to do something. I want to get angry I want to hit someone without being scared for them I want to be violent oh god I want to be as angry as I want. But I can't because I don't want to be my mother because I'll be disgusted with myself if I ever became like her. I can never be as angry as I want and I will never let myself be as angry as I want. 

My thoughts are coming in fractured and incoherent and it's because I'm so tired I just want to curl up on the floor and never wake up again that would be nice.

I just touched my back again and there's like this oval bulge lol this is a piece of fucking shit all I ever wanted was to be happy 

And I don't even fucking understand why I'm crying again over this stupid injury that's not even half serious

I thought that if I were dying I'd be pretty melodramatic but I'm already melodramatic over this little shitstorm so if I were dying I'll probably just melodrama myself to death.

I want to read a book but they're all stories and life isn't even one millionth as pretty as a story and I think that's pretty shitty.