I used to do schoolwork marathons just about every day. I found comfort in numbers and cold calculations. Now I have nothing. Every day is a struggle. I just want to hide in my room. Meetings are my breaks, but last night was no break. My mom stayed, and she turned an event that I enjoyed into hell because she hated it. I won an award. It was left behind.
Even when I get a new one issued, it won’t be the same. The moment is gone, and so is my pride. I’m tired and I’m done. I’m scared of this Friday. I don’t think the inauguration will be safe, and my closest friends are going. Saturday morning they may all be dead.
My mom instilled that fear in me. She has seen what it’s done to me, but unlike everything else, she refuses to tell me I’m being irrational because she thinks I’m being perfectly rational. She won’t let me play piano any more. I played one song too frequently because I wanted it practiced for the talent show in a few months and now she hates it.
She hates everything I love. She just really doesn’t like me, but she’ll never say it because she knows I’m unstable and doesn’t want to be the thing that pushes me over the edge. It’s not worth it though. My family needs to let me go. We’re not healthy for each other. I bully myself, and they take it as a personal offense. I can write with my eyes closed. I just did.
I’m alone. I’m still as exhausted as if I was doing marathons every day, but I don’t do anything. I’m useless.