I personally don't enjoy ranting like this, because I begin to feel like an absolute fake attention whore. But these past day have really been hell for me. As you probably know, because of my obnoxious bratty self probably told you, I had a breakdown or anxiety attack, or I don't really know about yesterday. Ever since then my parents have wanted an explanation, as every parent would. Because the school said I had to take these "shots" though it was just a paper that needed to be signed. I just find it difficult to admit what I did to myself, I mutter, I become embarrassed for no damn reason whatsoever. So instead, I wrote it down. The note-thing consisted of insults I've thought about myself for a while, and how I came to have my breakdown-thing. I gave it to my mom and left, scared that she would judge me. Once she was finished reading she came to the kitchen (Where I was) to talk to me. And, heh, sorry I just really can't type right now, she spoke about how the things I listen to, watch, I dunno look at where quite depressing and that I should lighten up a bit. She even suggested me trying to hang out with friends more, perhaps join an after school club. Then she spoke about how she had the same taste in music in high school and how she used to think about commuting suicide and didn't, note that she fucking laughed after, and she was glad she didn't. And told me how I should try to "change my perspective" on things. Now she spoke about art and how I should join an art club, considering it might help my mood. Now, I'm already anxious as fuck around people I believe would judge me, but to let them see my art? Makes me super. Fucking. Anxious. I already know my art is horrible! But having to compare it to others?! Are you just trying to lower my already low-ass selfesteem?! In fact, she made me feel worse. She just made me feel like she didn't want the fucked-up daughter she has now, or just made me feel out of place more than I already did! And I just wanted to cry, the only things keeping me sane were those "depressing things". Sure, there were dark moments but I enjoy suspense, I enjoy gore, I enjoy dark things. And although these things seem bad, they were inspiring to me. Yes, they reminded me of my dark thoughts, yet they made me replace those dark thoughts with hope knowing that people suffered the same amount I have. But then again, I'm probably am just acting like an attention whore, I bet half the things I rant about aren't even bad compared to somebody's else's problems, that I just over exaggerated each thing I see like the fucking brat I am. Though, the thing that really made me feel fucking horrible about myself, was when my dad read it. Because you know what he did? He just gave me back the paper, and didn't. Say. A. Fucking. Word. Just went back to watching his fucking movie, I already feel like shit! Now I just feel like my parents are ashamed of their fucking lazy ass, whining brat, of a daughter. In fact my mom wanted me to "talk to her" instead of be on my phone or just being lazy on my bed. This is one of the fucking things that just pushed me over, I know I'm fucking imperfect and horrible. She didn't need to remind me of my fucking flaws, I just, I'm sorry. I'm just being a stupid ass brat, I should just suck it up. People have gone through worse things than this, and I'm acting like its the end of the world. I'm sorry. I just can't. I'm sorry for the cursing and stuff. I'm sorry.