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That wasn't a good keybash. That was the opposite. It was a terrible keybash.
To put it simply, I have a fucking migraine. The only reason I'm posting is because I'm so angry and upset that I'm worried I might bite a chunk out of one of my cats if I don't vent.
I feel disgusting, Absolutely fucking horrible and disgusting and I hate it. But what I hate more than the horrific pain is the way my fucking family is dealing with it.
Listen, I know I have a lot of time off school. I know I've been notorious for skipping days when I don't feel like it. But for fuck's sake, when I'm sitting there, throwing up continuously, with tears streaming down my face, could you not set aside those facts for a moment, and not just, I don't know, comfort me? Make me feel better? Isn't that what family is meant to do? Don't just sit there, telling me how this will be the eight trillionth day I've had off just this term and how my teacher will be disappointed, blah blah blah.
Fuck my teacher. Fuck everybody who wants me at school. I'm not going to go to school just to prove to my teacher that I'm a fucking soldier and just to get another mark on my report card, not when I feel like my face is being ripped out the back of my skull. And fuck you, for making me feel about fifty times worse this morning.
Don't you even fucking care about my depression? Weren't you there when they told me how sick I am, weren't you there when I snapped and cried and screamed and tried to tear my own hair out? Don't you fucking understand that I might be a bit fucking fragile and I just might need a fucking hug from time to time and I don't particularly want to hear about my FUCKING ATTENDANCE when I'm sobbing and wailing and wishing for my life to end.
I know I've had a lot of time off school. I know. But I also know that this is fucking real, unadulterated pain I'm feeling, and I'm not going to sit around school with it.
So fuck you, family. Fuck you with a rake.
To put it simply, I have a fucking migraine. The only reason I'm posting is because I'm so angry and upset that I'm worried I might bite a chunk out of one of my cats if I don't vent.
I feel disgusting, Absolutely fucking horrible and disgusting and I hate it. But what I hate more than the horrific pain is the way my fucking family is dealing with it.
Listen, I know I have a lot of time off school. I know I've been notorious for skipping days when I don't feel like it. But for fuck's sake, when I'm sitting there, throwing up continuously, with tears streaming down my face, could you not set aside those facts for a moment, and not just, I don't know, comfort me? Make me feel better? Isn't that what family is meant to do? Don't just sit there, telling me how this will be the eight trillionth day I've had off just this term and how my teacher will be disappointed, blah blah blah.
Fuck my teacher. Fuck everybody who wants me at school. I'm not going to go to school just to prove to my teacher that I'm a fucking soldier and just to get another mark on my report card, not when I feel like my face is being ripped out the back of my skull. And fuck you, for making me feel about fifty times worse this morning.
Don't you even fucking care about my depression? Weren't you there when they told me how sick I am, weren't you there when I snapped and cried and screamed and tried to tear my own hair out? Don't you fucking understand that I might be a bit fucking fragile and I just might need a fucking hug from time to time and I don't particularly want to hear about my FUCKING ATTENDANCE when I'm sobbing and wailing and wishing for my life to end.
I know I've had a lot of time off school. I know. But I also know that this is fucking real, unadulterated pain I'm feeling, and I'm not going to sit around school with it.
So fuck you, family. Fuck you with a rake.