#ik you wont see this until tomorrow but i hope you liked the effort this took me to make

[skeletalheartattack]

i am taping your leg to the ceiling fan and turning it to max power :)

you're gonna what now? huh? wait. oh shit-

WAAAAHHHHHH!!!

[depressed-x-bitch]

!!!trigger warning!!! this is a rant that mentions suixide, if you’re triggered by that please do not read!!! i love you and you matter!

i feel really weird. tomorrow it’ll be 2 years since i tried to kill myself and im not quite sure what to make of it or what to think of it. its weird to think its already been so long, and that i had so much hope for 2020. i had so much fucking hope that was just destroyed in front of me with each passing day that its almost surprising im still here. i dont know what happened. i never felt like i knew myself before, but at least i had an idea. now i look in the mirror and don’t even know the person im staring back at. i feel like im in such a weird phase of my life and i just want it to end. I want to move out of my parents house, i cant stand living with them. it feels like they’re holding me back from becoming the person i want to be. and honestly,, im mad. im mad at my parents. im mad at my parents for not doing their job. they had one fucking job when they brought me into this world, and it was to give me their time and effort to raise me to be a healthy woman, and im just not sure if they did that. i wont sit here and try to paint my parents as complete failures, because i know they love me, i know they care, i know they try, but its just not enough. they weren’t absent parents, they were there, i always had food, a warm home, and clothes on my back, thats not the department they lack in. they lack having and emotional connection with their child. my dad is pretty much oblivious to whats going on with me, he knows i have depression and everything, and always asks how i am or if im fine, but i can never actually tell him how i feel because he’s already ruined that opportunity when i was a kid by getting mad at me and yelling at me every time i didn’t answer him because i was too scared to answer. he got mad over small things because he has anger issues and it always really scared me, he even got mad at me once because he asked how i was and i told him i was fine but he didn’t believe me, and i was still very young at the time. he once got so mad he was screaming at me for like 5 minutes while i hid behind the couch by my door crying, waiting for him to finish yelling at me so i could go to my room and hide away from him while i sobbed. i remember after that, i sat behind my door sobbing, and that was the first time i ever thought about hurting myself. i was 8.. then my mom is, to put it simply, a bitch. she treats me like her little baby, but treats my cousin (who she WILLINGLY took in) like her personal fucking punching bag. then my other cousin she took in (he is very young) gets to call HER mom, but she is virtually NEVER here to take care of him. she doesn’t play with him, she barely does anything with him. but thats not a surprise to me because she didn’t play with me much when i was younger either, yet she was still my favorite because my dad scared me. (my dad is my favorite now because i can actually stand being around him sometimes, unlike my mom) she always has something snarky to say, shes judgy, and god forbid you need or want something in a timely manner. she always tries to hug me randomly and talk to me when im literally just walking around the house or trying to do something. its really annoying to be randomly forced into a hug when im not in the mood and im trying to do something. she forced me to go to psychiatrist appointments where she and the doctor had to try and pull any information out of me, i was made to take anti-depressants because they knew something was wrong, but not what.  i eventually switched doctors and made her stop coming in the room because i couldn’t talk with her around. but there was a time before the appointments where i was constantly trying to stay home because i was depressed and i always had to talk to her about staying home, and she would ask me what was wrong, and i tried to explain it but shes just not a good listener. it felt like all she was trying to do was solve the problem, she kept telling me things i needed to do that would “help me feel better” (exercise, taking vitamins, getting birth control etc, ik these help but you have to realize i was at a point in my depression where it was hard to just get out of bed, its a problem beyond that) and kept dismissing my feelings. it never felt like she listened because she really cared, it felt like she was just trying to get a quick solution, like she was just solving a problem. and then around march 2020 she stopped making my appointments randomly (without telling me!!!!) so eventually around july the question came up about what happened to my appointments and she said “well you seemed fine” so then around september or october i asked her to make me an appointment, she didn’t get to it until like november. got put back on my anti-depressant, so i asked her to go get the prescription for me. she couldn’t get it. and why couldn’t she do that, and why did it take so long for her to make an appointment ?  oh,, she was TOO BUSY. the pharmacy is on your way to work, you don’t work weekends, and the phone call to make an appointment doesn’t even last 5 minutes. but no, you were too busy to care about your daughters declining mental health. if she really hated how i hurt myself so much, you would fucking think she would take me seriously when i ASKED her for appointments. i asked you for help, my fucking MOM, the one person who is supposed to be there to help me no matter what, to help me, and she just couldn’t do it. she wonders why i treat her the way i do, and i have a fucking LIST of reasons. because she disappointed me, because i had hope she’d be there and she just wasn’t. shes too caught up in her own feelings and emotions that she don’t consider how others feel. i understand shes the adult, but she acts like the child. it always about what she wants, not what other people need. everyone thinks they’re good parents from the outside, but once you take a closer look and start to dive in, you’ll see that the best thing you can label them as is “mediocre parents” in conclusion, i can’t wait for the fucking day i move out of this hell-hole i call home.