I've been 21 for a month and nine days and I hate myself more than ever.
I am unable to do anything without physical injury, and the rest of the time my family contrives to do mental injury to me. I've told Mum before that I am physically unable to get up and get dressed while there's someone standing there yelling at me, but she obviously ignored me again because that is what she did today to try to get me to my catch up session. Stealing my bedclothes and opening my blind didn't help either - neither does the fact that my blind is now rolled up the wrong way round because I think Dad put it back up (after putting up my blue curtains) the wrong way round.
I think the fact that my family are refusing to understand me hurts the most.
Most of us are misunderstood most of the time. Nobody really knows anybody. We are so complex.
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