I really wish I could still talk to my mum about my depression but she’s stopped trying to understand and just blames everything on me and tells me how ungrateful I’m being. I don’t think she realises how much I do appreciate everything she does for me - and everything that my dad does when he’s not being a dick - and that this is not my fucking fault.

I don’t want to get better anymore because I’m tired of fighting, and I don’t care how much of a coward that makes me look like. I can’t do this anymore because I wake up every day scared of everything, especially the fact that I’m still alive, or that I can’t just simply curl and not leave my room for the next few years.