I was foolish to assume that my mom could be my best friend for the rest of my life. Truth be told, at this point, I think she is more concerned about the ashes in a box then she is about the people who are alive around her. Like me. And most importantly, my teenage little sister who needs her.

I've been withdrawing off of zoloft, and today I threw up. Instead of asking me if I am okay or if she can help, she rolled her eyes and told me it's because I read the withdrawal side effects. She then went on to remind me that she hasn't been on her meds in weeks and no the difference between that and me is that she wont TAKE hers, I had mine TAKEN AWAY. I told her "oh sorry I forgot you have it worse than anyone here. God forbid I'm ill." and she slammed a door in my face which hit me in the face.

This isn't my mom. This is some shell of a person I once knew. We used to be so close. We'd talk and go out and enjoy each others company and be able to hold meaningful and good conversations. All I get now is how badly she wants to be with my brother and how she is the sickest one (as though its some kind of god damn Olympics) and says things like "maybe I'll just drop dead finally" etc.

I feel no connection to anyone anymore. Everyone has gotten so far away from me and I cannot be the god damn savior anymore. I'm done. I forgot that I was meant to be in this world alone. Completely alone. I hate my brain, I hate my life, I hate my body, I hate how badly everyone treats me. I hate having to feel this alone and not have anyone care.

No one cares about the depressive. They'll fade away soon enough.