Wednesday September 10, 2003
This again.
And my parents wonder why I'm taking medication for depression, why I sleep during the day and am awake at night, why I never smile or laugh in this house…
My mother has a drinking problem, I sleep while my parents are awake to have as little contact with them as possible. Could my depression have anything to do with my parent's constant assertions that I am a stupid, lazy, good-for-nothing child unable to make decisions for myself? The fact that they micro-manage every aspect of my life, including (but not limited to) screaming at me in the night to "get to bed now!1one" and half drunk exclamations of open disapproval of my sleeping schedule?
I am becoming more and more tempted to finally snap. Go postal. Take my parents with me to the next life. Then I formulate words suitably representative of my hate. Fuck you, your plans for me and my life. Fuck your approval of my sleeping schedule. I care about what your pitiful mind has to offer about as much as a butterfly cares about the storm generated by it's flight - not one whit. To use a favorite quote of Kyhm's - I have forgotten more than you will ever learn. Luckily I have not forgotten how to deal with stupid ignorant fucks like you. Good day, and good riddance.
— Alice