I stormed upstairs and cried for about an hour straight, nose bleeding and mouth watering all over my carpet. I don't know what got into me at one point, but I started to scratch at my face deeply. I only left red marks that faded quickly, but scarily, it felt good.
I managed to compose myself, wipe myself up and go back downstairs to face my mother. I apologised.
I didn't even want to, after she played the naive card on my sadness. I feel like a spoilt brat for thinking she's in the wrong though. It's my 'depression', but I wish she'd be a little more understanding.
It's like when I was violently ill. I was sick 7 times in one morning, matched with the same number of fainting incidents, and I was in and out of hospital for two days. Yet, when her colleague sees my mother has to take a couple of mornings off to drive me to the hospital, she buys a whole huge boquet of flowers for her and a buttload of chocolate. I thought it was the other way around... The sick person gets those things? Supposedly my mother was 'anxious', but lord, if you had seen my anxiety attack on those few days...
I must sound so stupid for thinking that, as bratty as it sounds, I think I have been through a lot. I don't want flowers or chocolate, but it'd be nice knowing that someone acknowledged I was seriously ill and gave their support, instead of fawning over my mother for being 'so strong'.
/blogownerisabrat
I try not to sound selfish, but I really think I don't ask for much anymore. I try to hold off asking for things, as I realise I don't need them at all. I haven't bought anything expensive for myself in a while, and I'm glad.
But as the days go by, I only ask of one thing. And it seems like an 'expensive' item, because no-one can give it to me.
And that thing is happiness.
I pray everyday for happiness. I try my hardest in my conditions to work for happiness. I'm not expected for it to be handed on a plate for me, but I'd like karma to give me some slack for a day or so. Just so I can have a laugh or a smile, without feeling a pit of anxiety in my stomach.
But looking back on that, is asking for happiness selfish? Because no-one can give it to me, and I will have to achieve it myself? If so, I ask for advice in reaching my happiness, because what I'm doing clearly isn't working.
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