She fails to exist in my life and soon my heart. She expects me to call her when:
1. She always “has to go” or is “busy” whenever I call her.
2. She doesn’t take care of me.
Therefore, she should be calling instead of sending me a freaking TEXT asking why I haven’t called her! WTF? She makes me want to hate her so much. I realize that some people don’t even have mothers, but I might as well not even either, since she fails to exist as one.
She puts everything but me and my sister first.
She might as well have aborted me…
Being at my grandparents’ house for a long period of time is what causes me to be depressed. (I live with them). There seems to be some negative vibe in my house. Or maybe a negative spirit following me.
Whenever I am at my grandparents’ house for a long period of time without doing much or going back to NY with my mom for a weekend, I get depressed again. The past two months, I haven’t once been depressed or sad for a long period of time. The past two months, I went to NY practically every weekend and I saw my mom often. I was also at my uncle’s house a lot. It has to be this house because I’m even happy in school. Maybe I’ve inherited bipolar disorder from my mom. I’m not sure.
As SOON as I am here again more often, I am BADLY depressed. I have been having suicidal thoughts literally at least every 10 minutes. I’ve been thinking about how I could kill myself, and what could really go wrong. I’ve been having really intrusive thoughts and regretting my life. I’ve been wishing my mother aborted me… All of that good stuff. I think something might be wrong with me. I’ve also been feeling like complete crap because of some things I did a few months ago even though they are pretty small compared to the things that most teenagers my age do these days. I’m just feeling really regretful. Wishing I could take things back. Wishing I was never born. Or that I could just kill myself. Wishing I was never born.
Hopefully my mom will start picking me up again more often and taking me back to NY with her more often so that I can get rid of this melancholia.
I think I’m going insane. I feel like no one is there for me. Not even my own mother or my “best” “friends”.
I seriously wish I was never born. Or could start over. I want to kill myself.
They’re back from Jamaica… Yay… That means I have to go back to their house… I hate my life… *literally crying*
My life is barely getting better… But I’m trying to stay positive. Just forcing myself to.
I really wish I could move back to NY… So badly. I really hate living with my grandparents. I want to live with my mother back in the city and not in a shelter… But that’s probably not going to happen – any time soon. *Tears shed*
My younger sister gets to live with my uncle now. They’re about a 15 minute ride away. She’s so lucky. I’m jealous. Because she has a life. And they’re great people. And they do stuff. They have lives… Like normal people.
It only makes me hate my life even more.
Like always; I have been let down by my mother. I resent her so much to this point; it’s crazy. I don’t even call her “mommy” or like referring to her as my mom anymore. I will be attending the same lovely school and I will continue to live with my same lovely grandparents. (Quote the sarcasm). I want to scream my lungs out and die. I want to just jump in a hole and never return.
On to specifics: Since I probably won’t be moving back to NY any time soon, I won’t be able to do anything still because I do not have a licence or a vehicle. That means no extracurricular activities, which means not getting into a good college.
And if you’re wondering if it is really this serious; it is. I literally have no way of getting around without a vehicle since I live in the middle of nowhere. I literally stay in my house almost every single day. And on top of that my internet barely works 50% of the time. My grandfather literally doesn’t take me anywhere unless it’s piano lessons which is once a week for only 30 minutes and occasionally to the supermarket. I can’t even walk anywhere. It’s not even like my grandparents are nice people. Most grandparents are, but not mine. They make me miserable. Seriously. Words can’t even express.
I resent my mother so much for making my life the way it is. It’s all her fault. She shouldn’t have had me. She doesn’t even take care of me.