F M L

As if it couldn't get worse. As if it couldn't hurt more. As if.

Tonight my Dad came into my room and wanted to have a "father son chat." Oh boy, here it comes. And then it did.

Full force, and with more oomph than I was expecting. And now I'm hurting, and crying, and I just want to...

I need to get out of here.

Yes, I'm looking for jobs. Yes, I'm trying to do something (that's a lie. The depression that has curled itself around me tighter than a glove leaves me unable to do anything but wile my hours away on the internet playing mindless games - which is ALL I do. Everyday, every minute, there I am. Buried).

Have I looked for a job? Yes. Have I applied to grad school? No. He thinks I should. But I'm broke and I can't afford it... ugh. Am I writing? No. Not a lick. Because I can't concentrate, and I can't handle this place.

I need insurance, I need a phone, I need a place to live. All money I don't freaking have. And the kicker...

He said I was welcome to stay here but I can't keep acting the way I do. Just because I slipped up and said the word "damn" today where my mom could here, now I'm in trouble? He also claims that I use the word "crap" too much. I outright told him I didn't appreciate his hypocrisy since I'm not the only one who says it. And then he swore up and down that they had it totally under control and no one said that before I came back. Bullshit.

I hate this place. I hate it, I hate it, God. I HATE IT.

F M L.