My parents are comig for the superbowl, but somehow I'm not excited.

My sister said we'd go to this place here on campus today, Iwas looking forward to it.. stupid me.

She said she didn't want to go now, only because her "thing" was near her..

I hate fake people.

I hate liars.

How can someone with a genuine heart be hurt so badly.

AllI want to accomplish in my life is to make my parents proud.

I would love to pay off some of their bills, buy hundreds of dollars of groceries for them, take them on a thousand dollar shopping spree, and more.

I know this all doesn't sound attainable, but it's my life goal.

I just want them to see that their struggle wasn't for nothing..

I want them to know they were great parents..

IfI had a bunch of money, I wouldn't spend it on myself. And I'm not just saying this to make myself sound better..

If this is my primary goal in life, why is it ok to put me through so much pain?

I rarely have prayers about me and my own needs, just mostly for my family.

What did I do to deserve this? I thought I was doing ok?

I thought I was being productful in my life..

I want to become a physical therapist so I can help my mom with the backpain thats bothered her for years.

I want to make a lot of money so that I can buy my dad a big space of land so that he can make it into a motorcycle track.

I'm not selfish.

I do everything I can to make life easier for my parents.

I rarely ask them for money and would rather go broke before I do because money isn't plentiful for them right now.

I'm trying to get a job so I can maybe save up to pay a couple of their bills for a month or two, ease some of their stress, even if it's just for a little.

I want to be able to give them a life they wish for.

And in doing that, maybe they'll be proud of the way they raised me.

They raised me well enough to know when to take care of them. Even if it doesn't involve much money..

So why is it ok to let me think of taking my life?

Why is it ok to make me regret survivng the accident?

Why is it ok to let me cry everyday, hate eating, abuse my pills, and slash my wrists?

Why is it ok to make me hate the fact that I'm lucky enough to wake up every morning?