You know… I realized something today. I knew it was gonna happen, and I remember thinking about it over the weekend and everything, but somehow… I didn’t even notice when a really big day happened for me. I somehow also didn’t realize that this same day also happened to be the same day I joined this site, and started blogging about how I feel. March 6th, this year in 2017, was my one-year anniversary for being clean of self-harm. I don’t get it… I guess like most things in life, they seem big in the moment, but eventually, get forgotten. What I really don’t get is why I don’t feel any pride. Joy. Whatever… I don’t even know how I feel… It’s like I’m thinking too much, and too little all at the same time, and I can’t make sense of any of it. Today was a particularly boring no-good very bad day. Nothing good happened, nothing bad happened. I just kinda feel like I’m just going through the motions sometimes… Kind of like an out-of-the-body experience. Like watching my life go by in slow motion, or sometimes… Fast forward. My school is setting up a meeting now, and debating to kick me out of school for my absences. It really sucks… Especially since I have good reasons for my absences, and also because it’s honestly been a really really tough past few months. If it wasn’t enough to have a hostile relationship with my mother, and a somewhat complicated relationship with my Dad, I also have two sisters who I love, and want the best for me. Even if my 5 year old sister can’t say it… She just- She always knows how to make me feel better. Like… Seeing me cry, and running to go get me toilet paper for my eyes, or hugs and kisses, or rubbing my back… She’s so smart… And if the depression, anxiety, a thyroid disorder, hand tremors, insomnia, frequent nightmares, and a possibly impending diagnosed Poly-ovarian Cist Syndrome floating around my head wasn’t enough… In late November, 2016, the woman who raised me up like a daughter, and who was my childhood daycare teacher, family friend, mother figure… She passed away from her fight with cancer in multiple parts of the body. And as well, shut me out months before, so I didn’t get to see her, be beside her, help her, or even say goodbye… If that wasn’t bad enough, with the crying every day, and panic attacks, and days where I just could NOT get out of bed… Near the middle of January, still facing the trauma of losing the only mother I’d ever known, my Papa’s cancer came back in mid January this year. One month, he was fine. Doctors were saying he was doing so good, that they were even gonna stop chemo. Then… By his next monthly visit, a massive tumor had grown in his stomach, of which he could possibly survive the surgery to remove it, but even if he did, he wouldn’t survive the chemo afterwards. So… He was admitted to the hospital, and my family rushed to see him from all across the U.S. The second day was his only lucid day, when he wasn’t sleepy or drowsy from his pain meds. Everyone left the room and my dad told him to talk to me, me being his youngest granddaughter and all, and he tried to talk, but seeing him struggling like that… I just told him it was okay, and to get his rest. Little did I know that I wouldn’t get another conversation with him. And what’s worse… I told everyone that I did get my “goodbye”, just to spare my papa some rest. But little did I know that I would never actually get my goodbye with him after that day. On the third day, he told us that he had comes to terms with the fact he was dying, and that he wanted to go home. So we admitted him to the rehabilitation center where my sister works in our hometown. And the fourth day… My Papa died on January 13th, 2017. I was there, every day. But of course, when things started going sideways, my father called my mom and told her to get me there quick, and she took her goddamn time. Hell! She even made a pit stop at freaking McDonald’s!!! She didn’t take him seriously, and by the time we’d gotten there, my Papa had already been dead for about 15 minutes. He was turning yellow from his liver failure. I didn’t know he was dead yet when I walked in the room… How stupid is that… Then, a couple weeks go by, and BOOM!!! An old family friend whom I’ve been used to seeing ALL the time, died suddenly… Of cancer. And what do you know, a couple weeks later, my Grandma, rushed to the E.R. with a whole in her colon that they can’t fix. CANCER. Still alive, but she might not be for long… And all this time I haven’t mourned anything. I’m still grieving the woman who raised me like a mother. So much so, that when everything happened with my Papa, I never even cried, broke down, nothing. Not until after anyways… I didn’t even get to go to the family friend’s funeral, and she was SUCH a nice woman. She always ordered from band fundraisers, and made me strawberry rhubarb pie, or even just talked to me when she could tell I was having a rough day. Great lives meet bitter ends… And people wonder why I gave up trying a long, long time ago. I can’t even believe my high school has the NERVE, to try and punish me for this. I’m freaking 16! This is a LOT, for anyone at any age, to go through within a few months. Add school, hostile home life, and constant suicidal thoughts to the mix, and I don’t get how anyone could have the nerve to expect anything from me at the moment… You know what… I really respect some of my teachers. The ones who give me extra credit, and extended deadlines, or who sit down and TALK with me. Not the ones who bash me for “reoccurring lazy homework patterns” or “never getting things in on time”, or hell, even “always late to school”!!!

I. AM. EXHAUSTED. And yet, everyone still wants just one more piece of me, but I am sorry. I am OUT of pieces.