Dear Diary,
i have always wanted to start a journal because i know it'd be good for me but always thought it was kind of corny, so i never did. today is my first time trying it! and i think i'm mostly doing this because i have no one to tell these things to. i don't think i can be vulnerable in front of people without feeling like a burden. it really sucks because i only show everyone the warm, beautiful, bright parts of myself so i don't think anyone will ever know the real me without seeing the ugly, hurt, and cold parts of myself.
i feel like i've hit rock bottom except when you hit rock bottom, the only way to go is up and every time i think things can't get any worse, they always seem to. i just want to disappear because maybe then, people will actually love and treasure me the way i want them to.
i hate being home. i try to tell myself every day that things aren't so bad and that i'll be back soon, but every passing day feels like i am further and further away from my real home.
i hate my mom.
i've worked through therapy for months trying to understand her because i desperately yearn for a mother figure in my life. i've stopped putting the blame on her and even started to justify her behavior, but now i'm back to square one and i loathe her now. every day i can't help but look at her with nothing but hatred in my eyes. she is a terrible mother and is one of those people who definitely should not have had kids. not everyone is cut out to be a mother. i blame her for everything wrong with me and i want nothing but to be as far away from her as possible. i look forward to the day i no longer have to think about her and worry about what she thinks of me. she is the one holding me back from who i dream of becoming.
"i can't wait for the day i become everything she's afraid of" is what i just thought to myself and the worst part is, my dream version of myself is exactly who my mom is afraid of me becoming.
life is so hard and i am so tired. all i have ever wanted is love from my parents, which is actually the bare fucking minimum if you have children
when she asks me if i have prayed in the morning, i nod and say "yes" but what i don't tell her is that i pray to get hurt. to maybe fall down the stairs and break my leg or faint and get a concussion or get hit by a car. anything. i just want to feel pain because i know that is the only way my mom will ever love me the way i want her to