I wonder what people think when they read these journals online. Maybe they see some selfish bitch who just wants attention. I started posting these so that I would feel a little less alone, so that maybe someone else would know what I'm going through. These are probably ignored. I told ---- that I write in a journal today. I wanted to say more but I didn't. I have therapy tomorrow and I'm dreading it. I'm debating whether or not I should tell ----- that I cut and if I should tell her how I really feel. I'm not "fine." Have you ever felt unsafe in a place that's supposed to be your home? Whenever Im at this house, or think of coming here I feel depressed or unhappy. There's a sickly unpleasant aura here. It hangs in the air and weighs down on my shoulders. Whenever I come here I expect a fight, or to be yelled at. At least 90% of these entries have been written here. In our last fight, I told my mom I wanted to leave and go to dads. She didn't acknowledge it, but my brother did. He asked me why I hate mom and why I always say I want to leave. I dont hate my mom, I love her, she's my mom, but everyone can be hard at times. That was the first time I said I wanted to leave though, out loud. I've wanted to leave almost every time I've come over. I usually don't want to even come, I shouldn't say that, because it can be so hurtful to people. I think it's mostly true, but it's hard to think. I read so many sad stories so that I can forget about my own pain. I still think ------ likes me. He told me I'm cute and always wants me to send him selfies. He asked if I wanted to hang out once and I told him I don't want to date, but he still asks for pictures and such. I don't know what I'm doing. I feel like I'm locked up, confined within my own mind and home. I can't go anywhere, I want to go to the bookstore. I would like to read The Swing of the Sea. I saw the play, it was interesting. I feel worn.
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