athena

page one

dear diary,

life's weird, isn't it? growing up is a scary thing. one minute youre a kid having the time of your life, then you're on your bed, staring at your wall as the tears flow down.

it's awful. most of the time i just wish i felt normal. instead im stuck in my fucked up head, living a life i don't know. i'm not too familiar with this feeling. it's like... everything in me's lost and my head swirms with crazy squiggles.

my therapist told me to write down my emotions and thoughts throughout the day. she's an idiot if she thinks i'll keep doing it. i mean, it's not bad so far.. but what if it gets to the point where i can't even describe how i'm feeling.

i'm the person that parents warn you not to be. they say, 'you see her? she's suicidal.', 'never be like that, they're freaks.' and i truly hate millennials. they're always so quick to judge.

i wasn't always like this.. alone, i mean. i had a family who i loved. then mamma died and pappa developed a drinking disorder. it's not fun, let me tell you.

i fucking despise some novels that involve serious topics. it's like they explain it the way everyone sees it, not how it actually is. instead of the dad breaking things, abusing you, mine's always gone.

we haven't spoken much since mamma died, and our relationship died the first time he slapped me across my face. he used to tell me that his actions were an example of 'showing his love.' so when he started touching me, i thought nothing of it.

i'm not an expert on any disorder's, but my therapist told me i have an eating disorder. i personally don't see it. it's not like i don't wanna eat, i just can't eat. she also said i have body dysmorphia. that one i can understand. i can barely look at myself in the mirror.

i've dreamt about getting the hell out of here for ages. i think it through, and every time, my plan goes back to staying here. why? because i have nowhere to go. you'll hate the things you discover more than the place you left. i have no money or car, and i don't know where my paperwork is.

i feel like it's better to just be here. it's much safer than getting kidnapped. i'll be considered an 'adult' in two years, but i don't get it. how can an eighteen year old have more privileges than a sixteen year old? they both have teen in it.

people always claim they're fine on their own, but i think everyone knows they're lying. for me, being alone sucks. my mind fucking goes crazy, i feel helpless, i can't do much, i start overthinking things, shit like that.

the only positive thing in my life is the house i live in. we aren't poor, nor are we living in an abandoned place. pappa has money and still provides for him. how? he's in a gang.

you heard right. my pappa's in a stupid fucking gang. it's bullshit, my life is always at risk. his 'friends' bring their guns to our house, and even shoot random things at times. i don't even think guns are legal in Sweden.

yep. i live in sweden. now you know why i don't wanna run. that's maybe why i hate it here, there's snow 24/7. but yet again, the country's fucking breath taking. it has such beautiful buildings, and going for walks are so relaxing.

luckily, i don't have a curfew. i can leave the house whenever and come back whenever. hence why the whole running away idea seemed super simple.

maybe i need to rephrase that other part. i really don't hate sweden, i adore it. maybe it just reminds me too much of mamma. she'd always take me on walks whenever she had free time.

i really do miss her. everyday im angered by her death. it's even more annoying, how pappa brings guns to our home. it's like he doesn't even care that mamma died because of those.

it's two am where i live, yet it's still bright out. that's a confusing part about living here, but i love it nonetheless. maybe ill keep doing this, it was actually pretty calming.

i don't know how to end this. bye..?