Why should I care at all?
It was a simple question. She asked how I was. So I was just going to be honest and said I felt depressed. Then she goes on about, “Everyone gets sad. And everyone gets happy. But if you believe in psychology… then you should take your pills.” It’s not a matter of believing anything.
Every night I want to pour all the pills I have and just swallow them all. It’s so easy to die of overdose. All those people that are happy and sad (because we all know life is both) don’t feel suicidal.
I was very much looking forward to having my mom spend the weekend with me, but now she doesn’t want to come. A little support would be nice instead of her telling me she doesn’t believe I’m sick.
Thank god I’m not wearing make-up right now. That’d be an awful mess.
The last thing I need from someone I’m SUPPOSED to be able to depend on is skepticism.
I’m just so tired. So so so tired.
I can keep up my walls. I can keep the facade going forever. I don’t need to talk to anyone. I don’t need any fucking “friends.” No one understands anyway. Sometimes the simplest of things can work wonders. One short call. One meaningful hug. One warm smile.
Now if I didn’t know I had responsibilities later tonight I’d probably just sleep the day away. More pills! Who cares. I’m going to take them anyway.