I can’t stand how my life just keeps getting fucked over everytime I get home. I got back in Maine, shit. About 2 hours ago? And all I’ve heard out of her mouth is how bad my grades were, how I swear too much, how I can’t date until I’m a motherfucking sophomore. And, I save the best for last, I need to start going to church again. Fuck THAT. I do not believe in God and anyone who knows me at all knows this. I will never believe in Him for the simple fact he does not exist. Prove me wrong, jackass. I teared up because I know how fucked up my life has been. Let’s see. I’m not going to post any sort of list since I don’t want to seem so melodramatic, and I hate people who constantly bitch about their problems.I’m really tempted to. Fuck it. I’ve been beaten by my parents. I’ve been raped a few months after I turned 13. I was also drugged and kidnapped that night. Real cool. Have been struggling with eating disorders and depression since I was 12, and a year ago I was diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Syndrome. And my rapist lives a mile away from my house and I got to school with his daughter. How great is my life? I don’t need this constant bitching about how I can do things better. I can’t. I’ve been down and out for a while. I’ll try harder in September. Okay? I don’t need to have so much on my plate that I’m mutilating myself at night because I can’t handle the pressure. I just want to be that innocent 7 year old I once was. Because after that year, I started smoking, drinking, doing drugs. I can’t do this shit anymore. I haven’t even taken my antidepressants in a month. I don’t know what to do anymore. I think I need help. But I have no where to go than up, right?