My mother came home from work asking what was wrong with me. I wouldn’t tell her. I won’t tell anyone. It upset her, but I just kept telling her I wanted to talk to Dr. Moser. She finally let it go and told me it might be a while before I could get in to see her. She then asked how long I’ve been feeling upset. I told her two or three weeks, and she said we should make an appointment with Dr. Barash as well. Maybe I can’t be off anti-depressants yet, I’ve been down hill ever since I haven’t been on them.
That’s okay though, right? It’s okay if I still need them, eventually I’ll get there to where I don’t. Eventually I will. I just can’t live feeling like this all the time. I miss myself a month ago, and how I have been for most of the year. Happy. (Enough, anyway.) I want that back.
In the mean time, my mother seems really worried. I don’t know what to do or to tell her. I don’t have anything to tell her. Accept what happened today, and I can’t. I got really angry with my brother over something stupid, that he just made worse by ignoring me when I tried to talk to him. And, I threw a bottle of Windex, and punched a door, and proceeded to tell him that I hate him and left the house slamming the door behind me.
I don’t hate him, I apologized later, but I really don’t want him ever thinking I hate him. He just made me so mad. So, so mad. It took everything in me from hitting him. That scares me.
I hate the fact that I started this blog when I started feeling my worst, so all my posts aren’t too happy. I seem like another teenager filled with angsty bullshit.
