May 9th, 2015
I think that's the right date. I'm not exactly sure.
I've begun to think that they drug my food and/or my drink at breakfast. Every morning, once I eat, I always feel drowsy and tired and unfocused and so many more things. It has to be an affect of the antidepressants, right? And I can't just stop eating.
Okay, so may they can force me to take the pills.
I hate them. I hate them so much with ever fibre in my body. I hate them with everything that I am.
I don't need antidepressants. I'm not super depressed anymore. I had Niall; that was all I needed. A decent human being who understands what I'm going through. I don't need therapists who pretend that I'm going to be okay with all of their pestering, with all of their prescriptions. I'm not going to be okay with antidepressants, or by talking about my problems. I was okay with Niall, and then I was taken away from him.
I know I let him go, but I had to. His situation is worse than mine, and I can put up with the mental hospital. He can't. I couldn't just let him get caught up in the big mess that is my life.
This is all simply ridiculous.
Ari
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