I want a refund on my brain.

I suppose it wouldn't be a week of school if I didn't break down into tears at some stage throughout the week.

Yesterday, as you could all obviously see, I was quite angry. I'm angry at life for putting me where I am at the moment. And I know that roaccutane is, to a degree, my decision, but what else was I supposed to do? There's no better time than this, that's the simple reality.

So I'm just drowning anyway. And things are just too hard to deal with. I wrote down all the things I had to do/hand in for school yesterday, and writing it down in due date order made it look a hell of a lot less scary. I even stared at the page I had written it all out and and questioned why I found myself in the position I was in. But of course I know the answer. If it were just the school work, I would still be stressed, but not the way I am now. Or if it were just one, maybe two, of my medical problems then I would still be stressed, but it would be more manageable by a tenfold. So its obviously a culmination of many, many things that is accentuated by my currently not-so-manageable and concurrently fragile mental state. So the relatively small list of school related things that I had to do, once broken down, did not deserve the drowning feeling it is causing me. And then as my year level coordinator grouped things that were happening between today and the end of this term it became scary again. And I'm staring at this new list going "oh my God" and all I can think is how is this fair?

And that's when I burst into tears. And then a lot of things poured out of my mouth. And then I answered questions. And then I somehow got a handle on my emotion [because I always win that fight in the end] and I went to class [like a boss] like nothing had happened. This whole just everything, it seems to me that I've bitten off far more than I can chew -- and not even by conscious decision. That's the kicker.

While I was battling my surge of emotion at lunch today, I was asked about my family relationship. Now, obviously I can consider myself lucky because there are a number of things that are not wrong with my family. But by the same token, my family isn't exactly right either. A lot of that is, naturally, the fault of my own. I have a poor relationship with my parents as far as trust and sharing goes. I have a number of blacklisted subjects that I will not discuss. For example: how I'm feeling and self harm. I tend to combat such enquiries with evasive answers or just flat out lies. I am excellent at both areas, most of the time. My Mum has, lately, become quite protective of my sister. My sister, who is the youngest, experiences much anxiety and grinds her teeth. And this is all I hear about. It's all about how horrible my brother and I are. Or how we're going to give her depression and anorexia. I hate to be the one to point this out but like, I'm not the only who hurls abuse at her. This isn't my fault and I won't wear it. I'm wearing enough. I don't need this shit too. You're the mother. You're the father. You fix it. Preferably without the yelling -- which is evidently the cause of the problem, as you both have pointed out multiple times yourselves.

My brother and I learnt this behaviour somewhere. Time to take a good hard look at yourselves before you play the blame game. I'm so tired of being accused. And people wonder why I don't talk to my parents.

I don't like to talk about my family situation much. But I'm always conscious of how much grief I'm causing. It's quite disheartening really, to think about how much I cost. And we don't have that much money anyway. Budgeting and the like. See, can't even get it out now.

I just, I just hate my life. Clearly, it's not the heads of others that need tearing off. Just my own. Because I want a refund on my brain. And on life in general. So then I can be peaceful and happy and it can be all lollipops and rainbows.

- Sky