Last night was the third night I cried myself to sleep. This is really getting ridiculous. I'm tired of waking up to red, puffy eyes.
However I wrote most of my first novel in my head last night, among my hysterical fit. At least I accomplished something.
I don't want to talk to people. So when my aunt called, and I gave her one word answers...she seemed rather surprised. Well, what the fuck? You're allowed to talk about MY future as though I have no idea whats going on. Then you expect me to get on the phone and be okay?
My family is dysfunctional. I am more normal than I have any right to be, but nonetheless, christ almighty, I can hardly handle it.
And no. I'm not actually running away. I just want to. I don't want to go to college anymore, it seems like too much hassle.
My entire family is against me. And I'm still a little girl. I don't know if I can do this.