I seek refuge, to pursue comfort.
As I run out of places to abscond to, sleep has become the last remedy.

I know I think too much and worry pointlessly, letting the smallest things get to me. Often I find myself digging my nonexistent nails deep into my skin, yelling to myself to make up my mind.

It breaks my heart hearing people telling me who I used to be, as they all merely assume that I’m comfortable with who I’ve become. I’m sorry I’m no longer that girl that sits at her desk for hours every night, flipping through maths exercises and science notes. I’m sorry I’m no longer that organized, calm and collected person that obeyed your every order and demand. I’m sorry I had to see through the lies of those earlier years, and for that, I can no longer look at you in the eye.

Perhaps it’s my fault that you have become the tyrant you are today. You taught me to believe that everything will always be my fault, ‘sorry’ was always for me to say. I thought it would make you happy, so I went along with it. I never knew pleasing you would take this hellish amount of effort. I’m exhausted and in desperate need for help. You scream at me for not telling you things, for not coming to you for help. Yet when you’re around, I’m too scared to even nap, to cry, to show any real feelings and emotions, because you just don’t understand. You can’t see past the implications of the things I do to that lonely crying figure screaming for help, as you are so caught up with that teenager who’s letting her dreams go, along with her life. I’ve begged, I’ve cried, nearly half died. I’ve been to almost all the hellish places I can think of hoping to grasp your attention. Is it too much for one to ask for a hug from her own mother?

I cry everyday, because of your insensitivity. Today was no exception.