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Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Cut my life into pieces

Watch out motherfuckers, I'm bout to throw a fucking TANTRUM.  I never said that I expected my parents to understand how I feel, I would NEVER say that.  I DO, however, think it is reasonable that at THIS point in my recovery/treatment process that I expect them to UNDERSTAND THAT THEY DON'T UNDERSTAND.  Instead of snapping on me because you think I'm being lazy or difficult or whiny, take one goddamn second to remember all of the SHIT going on in my head, and how ONE of those things may make me act the way I am!  Yeah, I'm going to use my illness(es) as an excuse for my behavior.  Know why?  BECAUSE IT'S ALL I CAN POSSIBLY GET THROUGH TO YOU.
WHY WOULD I EVER WANT TO GO SHOPPING FOR "SHAPEWEAR" WITH ANYONE BUT MYSELF?  WHY WOULD I WANT TO TAKE SAID SHAPEWEAR TO THE BRIDAL SHOP TO TRY ON MY DRESS IN FRONT OF YOU AND WHO KNOWS HOW MANY STRANGERS JUST TO FIND OUT IT DOESN'T FIT?  SHOES DON'T FIT ME AND CARSON'S WON'T BE ABLE TO FIX THAT BECAUSE EVEN MY GODDAMN FEET ARE FAT.  FUCK YOUR COUPONS I DON'T GIVE A SHIT.
I CAN'T put up with ATTITUDE.  Your response isn't about me, it's about YOU.  FUCK.

I want to take a fucking hammer to the ugly fucking china cabinet and just hear things CRASH.

Mmm.  Catharsis.

Loading up on valium.  FUCK why can't I just be DONE!?

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