My Weekly Demons

Relapse

A/N: hey guys, I haven't update this since I haven't really got a very big depression .. Well I had but I forgot about this book.. So here I am writing what I'm feeling cuz that's the only thing I can apparently do.

Chapter:

Why do people remember the bad things that happened to them more than the good memories. And why am I so afraid to be happy, oh yeah every time I'm happy something bad happens every time , and only to me. Why?

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Here I am laying down on my small twin sized bed, then all of the sudden I remember we're going to a roatrip. I was so excited that something good is going to happen after such a dreadful month.

We made it near our destination then out of nowhere my parents just said "hey remember when you got cyberbullied and threaten to expose your life... Then the police took you phone.. we could've get it back so you don't have to use my phone all the time" I kept persisting my mother to stop talking about it, nothing was changing until my brother spoke up and joined. All I just wanted to do is ignore those unwanted memories and just get away. Of course because of that topic I fell in a very bad mood.

When we made it we set up our picnic table, food ,cloth and everything. After eating we finally decided to clean up and take pictures. The things that they have said are still in my mind so I can get a little bit moody, my mom didn't give a fuck all she wanted was fucking pictures. So I was trying to smile to not ruin the mood, but my mother apparently didn't like the way I smiled and said I'm apparently showing attitude.. And just wanted to go home than go for more sight seeing. They promised going swimming afterwards which excites me , since its one of my stress reliever.

As we went home I was getting ready while my brother and my parents were sleeping. I woke them up since they said we were gonna go swimming. As we were gonna go my mother complained of head ache and my brother didn't wanna wakeup so of course they decided not to go. My mother was looking for my swimsuit and didn't find it. I swear it was in my duffel bag.

But it wasn't so my mothers mood changed and decided for the whole thing to be canceled, not allow me to go to anything including field trips, for me to do all chores and to be grounded.

I'm only 14, why do you expect such a high expectations to a very depressed child and someone who can't do anything right and blame them for everything that's happening, and knowing you child has depression, anxiety, bipolar and eveything. Do you think yelling and make them feel bad makes them feel better. Fuck no it just make them feel more dead.

So here I am back on my old, small twin sized bed wishing to die and praying to God to die and asked why I haven't die yet, I have drowned, try to hang myself, cut myself yet nothing is happening. I have tried everything to just die. Imagine since grade 1 till freshman I'm still depressed and everything. At the moment I started to have a relapse if everything bad that happened the first time I cut myself the first time I hang myself. The first time of everything. I remember the cyberbully accident, I remember when I was bullied and everything that my parents had said to me, its not that bad to remember when all they mostly say was badwords.

For the first time in almost a year of clean cutting, I might as well break it, like the way everything was broken