I know now.

I got in trouble with my grades . . . again. I was acctually trying to push myself to fix it. In the process, I was trying to fix myself . . . or so I thought. I drank coffee, which I hadn't done in too long. But, after getting in trouble. I realized, my parents didn't care or understand. they didn't want to, becuase that would be admitting they were wrong. They wanted reasons for my grades, so I told the truth, which was lack of motivation, feeling exhuasted, can't focus. It didn't matter. becuase to them , it was my dissicion and I should fix myself. They asked why I was like this, becuase "you have such a great life. No other kids get this. Stop acting like your life is miserable." I thought about it a while, becuase I knew my life was great. So, why was I depressed? It was them. I dreaded waking up to see them. I dreaded coming home to be yelled at by them. I dreaded my mom glaring at me like I'm a disapointment. It's not like I have a group of bad friends making me chane. I have one friend who's weirder than me, but we couldn't be tighter. Their expectations: they want me to excell in life, which I get, but it's been too much. It's stacked until I can't stand. I always said I'd go to colledge and be a vet, but that I noticed wasn't true. It was for them. I actually want to go to the millitary. I should smile and be happy now, becuase my mom gets her happiness from mine. And my dads from hers. Rules: And I mean too many rules. I'm okay with the obvious, clean your room and take out the trash, no attitudes allowed. But the oppressive rules that have now limited me to no freedom have suffocated me. I need out of herre just to get away from it. The control: To control every aspect of what I do. Like walking to school. I'm not allowed even though my sis, who acts yonger but's a year older, walks home from work at five in the morning. I got mad and asked why, just to find out, they had no reason other than they could so they would. it was after that, i stopped. Trying to live. Trying to try. It was all exhuasting again. Becuase what I say, feel, want, doesn't matter. They're the adults. They know what's best, right? For the logical reasons . . . maybe, but I think they've forgot I'm human.