It has come to the point where there are no more tears, no more looks of sympathy, and no more hugs and "I love you's". It has come to the point where my mother comes in the room, tells me to gather my stuff, rolls her eyes at me and tells me to hurry up. Apparently I had interrupted some important meeting at her work.
Well just excuse my depression.
"Niki, you have to go to school tomorrow."
"But mom I-" "No you have to go."
That was the end of that. I know there is no beating my mother in these sort of things.
The first time i tried to kill myself I was 11, my mom cried, and cried. Sweet huh? Having a mother that cares.
But no she wasn't crying because i tried to kill myself at such a young and innocent age, she was crying because she was cursed with an ungrateful brat who tries to kill herself when something doesn't go her way.
Now, the fact that I was only 11 and was trying to kill myself with child safety scissors wasn't exactly helping my case. But, you learn from your mistakes.
I'm 16 now and my mother ignores my "silly antics" and refuses to put me on any other medication other than my depression medication, and that took her 6 attempts at suicide to put me on.
My therapist is trying to put me on more because and I have many things wrong with me. For example; I'm bipolar, I have severe paranoia, I have bad anxiety, I have ADHD, and a touch of dyslexia.
Thats a lot I know. But that's me. And i fucking hate me, and so does 96% of everyone else in the world.
