okay, here's part 2!

i'm tired of them getting drunk every damn night of the week. i do not think they understand how depressing it is to be the only sober person in the house, especially when it happens every night.

i'm tired of them playing their ****** music all evening & night long as well. i can only hear the same song 10 times before i wanna tear my hair out. i keep my earbuds in and listen to my own music for the most part, but it's been 5 hours and i'm running out of music to listen to. not to mention i have to do this almost every evening now, for hours at a time. on top of this i have a headache (tired of those, too).

i'm tired of feeling like a guest in this house. i mean, i know that i don't contribute anything financially, but i try my best to be helpful, quiet, and out of the way. plus i'm family, and i dunno, but i feel like that should mean something. my parents, however, can be as loud as they want and disturb me. interrupt me, whatever. but i get shat on for being nice. okay.

i'm tired of every day being a struggle to get through because of the above things.

i'm tired of hearing his voice, it makes me want to rage. i know it's because of past abuse and that he's mellowed out a lot these past few months. but still. i can't just rewire my brain to forget. i feel like that is what people expect me to do.

i'm tired of not having a real family.

oh, and speaking of expectations; i'm tired of people who expect me to have a job and be in school right now. it wouldn't be a stretch if i were neurotypical. but i'm depressive with both generalized and social anxiety who hates herself. they don't understand how hard it is for me to just get through the day sometimes, let alone try to integrate my pathetic self into society. damn worker bee culture.

i'm tired of being hungry but also tired of being fat. i don't know which side to let win (hungry right now).

i'm tired of having this damn urge to cut myself. i do not need to cut. it's been 3 months, why do i still have urges anyway? sometimes it all feels not worth it. there's no reward, just urges and the never-ending struggle to not give in to them.

i'm tired of being stalled in my writing. i know it's the depression and that i can't much help it except by showing compassion to myself and not pushing it. but i am so tired of having to show phony compassion to myself. why can't someone else do it for once. a little love from someone else would be better. why is that always too much to ask.