It's only four months from now, and I can go to school again. I can be doing something I love. I can forget about everything except for flour, sugar, and chocolate.
But until those four months are up, I just want to kill someone (mainly me) out of spite for my family.
It makes me angry that we're poor.
It makes me angry that my mom gambles it all away. That my mom can't act like a mom. She doesn't clean, or help me clean, or tell my brother to clean. She doesn't teach me anything a mom is supposed to teach me. She let me skip school, and she let me say stupid shit and she let me move out with my dad. I would have done drugs already if I was stupid enough.
She let me have depression, she left me alone to torture myself, she never asked me a single question that helped, and she didn't tell me that I didn't need to die.
It makes me angry that I was twelve when I had depression, but I'm 18 now and I can't seem to fix my mistakes from when I was just a child.
I just can't be angry anymore.