March 13th, 2012

"Imagine if you couldn't say what you thought." My Religious Studies teacher today, first period. All I could think of was that I've done that. For a whole fourteen years of my life, and nearly a year now I've been free of it. I was never able to say what I wanted to because if my dad saw me "having an opinion", so to speak, I'd either be shouted at or ignored for days as a punishment for not sharing his opinion and not being subservient. What really frustrates me is how nobody realises the extent to which I am suffering. Because I'm not lashing out at people or running away or crying all the time, nobody understands how truly horrific I feel all the time. I'm going to see Dr. W tomorrow as the final "check-up", the six week mark for the medication and honestly I feel as if it's done more harm than good. The anxiety, the need to sleep all the time, the nausea, the digestion issues, etc. They're all side effects that should have gone away by now but they're still very present. I don't want to... idk. I just feel so fucking horrible, fucking fucking fucking horrible. I've not got anyone or anything and there's so much pressure and I'm barely at school so I know I'll do bad but ugh fuck it. Idk I just can't make my mind up.