You know what. F**k it.
I'm sick of having to wear my boyfriend's clothes exclusively because I can't afford to buy my own, and when I can, I panic too much to find the correct size. It's ridiculous that I still start to dissociate every time I go grocery shopping. Every time I make a meal. Every time I try to exercise. ENOUGH ALREADY. I can't stand my weight, I can't stand looking in the mirror. I'm so frustrated that I keep trying to no avail. I'm sick of these f**king thoughts in my head.
I hate my mother, I hate my brother, and I hate living here. I hate this house, I hate this town, I hate being stuck. I hate being unsuccessful.
I hate that my mother is a drunk, abusive bitch. I hate that woman so much.
I hate not having regular income. I hate that my savings account is almost empty.
I'm getting the hell out of here in the next six months. I don't care what it takes. I'm going to fix my life and move on.
/mess