They're My Problems... Not Yours.

I Don't Need A Psychiatrist.

TW- Agruing, SH Mentions.

Wordcount: 1,940

You are sitting in your room, staring at the ceiling while the other women by Lana Del Rey plays quietly on your record player.

"So what are you depressed now?"

You jump up, being startled by your moms sudden presence.

"What," You ask in disbelief, thinking you may have heard her wrong.

"Well your just laying in here doing nothing? I mean your room is a fucking pigsty-"

"Yes. I'm aware. There's no need to keep reminding me."

"Y/n. I'm just saying you need to get up and do something, you can't just lay around all day-"

"Why not? It's summer break, I can do what I want-"

"If your dad was still here you wouldn't be laying around. You'd be helping him around the house. Hanging out with him? Why does it have to change now that he's gone y/n-"

"Stop acting like it's really that easy mom. I don't think you get it? He's dead. He's dead mom, so why the hell do you keep talking about him and saying things I'd do with him like he's still here," you say on the urge of tears.

"It's ok to be upset y/n... you just need to let it out, you can't bury all your feeling inside-"

"I don't. I just don't let them out to you, thats all."

"Why are you acting like that."

"Like what?"

"You're giving me attitude! I've done nothing but try and be here for you but I need some fucking help! I miss him too-"

"WELL MAYBE I DON'T WANT YOU TO BE HERE! MAYBE I WANT DAD HERE INSTEAD! YOU ACT LIKE A FUCKING STRANGER TO ME AROUND HIM-"

"AROUND WHO?"

"YOUR FUCKING BOYFRIEND, MOM!"

"...y/n... I need him... and I- I have been with your dad for 20 fucking years y/n... I've never been on my own, your dad was all that I had, so when he died I had no one-"

"YOU HAD ME! YOU HAD BAILEY, KAI, JUSTIN! YOU HAD THE WHOLE FUCKING FAMILY MOM-"

"IM TALKING ABOUT MY LOVE LIFE
Y/N! I KNOW I HAD YOU GUYS, BUT I NEEDED SOMEONE TO HAVE A RELATIONSHIP WITH-"

"Whatever."

"Don't be like that-"

"Mom can you just leave? I'm sick of arguing."

"I came in here to tell you I'm going to make you an appointment for a psychiatrist-"

"What?"

"Y/n, you need to let your emotions out, you need to talk to someone-"

"No. No I don't, I'm fine mom. They are my problems and I can deal with them on my own. I don't need some random person to sit there and listen to me ramble on about how much I just wanna-"

You shake your head and flop back down on your bed, Leaning over and turning up the music playing.

"I'm making the appointment y/n."

"Well I'm not going."

Your mother just sighs before slamming your bedroom door.

-

"Y/n? Wake up."

"Hm?"

"Up, come on your coming to the grocery store with me."