I've had a really hard time today. I was okay before I went to sixth period, but one of my friends is having a hard time with her step-mother. She started to cry, and it brought up alot issues I thought I had delt with. It always sucks to realize that you aren't as good at dealing with stuff as you thought you were.

I don't understand anything. I don't understand why I cry when someone hugs me. I don't understand why I don't value myself as much as i value other people. I don't understand why for the love of god I can't except myself. And yet, those are my issues, those aren't the things i cry over. Those aren't the things that keep me up at night.

I hate my dad. I hate that he chose Sheri over me. I hate that I don't hate my dad. I hate that I never see my sister. I hate that I feel bad every time I say something to my mom, because she tries so hard. I hate that Sheri fucking stole my dog. I hate that they moved into this nice big house, and I got to finally have an upstairs room. I hate that they're happy. I hate that I'm not. I hate that my brother can get whatever he wants by playing on my mom's fears. I hate that I won't. I hate that I'm not a good person. I hate that I'm cynical. I hate that I can't be happy. I hate that the person I was closest to at my dads house was my sister who couldn't talk yet. I hate that I never get to see her anymore. I hate that I know exactly what her life will be like, and I hate that there isn't anything I can do about it.

I hate that I have no control. I hate that I can't do anything for myself. I want to move out when I turn 18. I want to get an apartment with Hannah and support myself. I won't though. I could never do that to my mom. I ish I could do whats best for me. I want the freedom. And I might see if I could convince my mom it would work. It wouldn't be for a while anyway. I'll think about it. I need togo nurse my freshly uncovered wounds now, so I'll keep mulling that idea over in my head, and try not to hate myself.