Rant.

I strongly despise the harsh expectations given to me every day of my fucking life. No one ever believes me when I rant about it either, and it’s annoying. Very, very annoying. Ever since I was a kid my parents fought, eventually splitting up when I was 5, around that age I was ‘enslaved’ until 10. I say enslaved because I was to live with a woman who slaved and abused me. I did all her work. Everything. Without pay, without praise, everything I did was terrible. Her daughter poured hot sauce in my ears, mouth, eyes, and my face in general. Molested and sexually abused by daughter’s friends. My dad did nothing about this, and if he did, I don’t remember it whatsoever. I don’t remember making conversation or even talking to him at all in my younger ages. I’m older now, 14, and confronted this thought with him days ago and he agreed. We don’t know each other at all. Anyways, at age 10 the woman and her daughter lived somewhere else. Another woman moved in, only to add to my seemingly endless depression and anxiety. She constantly body shamed me and mentally abused me, told me I were to ‘end up like my mom’ (who did absolutely wrong). My dad defended this woman. And the woman before her. It’s all I remember out of him.

After living with my mom for nearly a year in 2016-2017, she possibly committed suicide a few months ago. Overdose. Since then my dad and I have been making conversation somewhat, but he doesn’t give me any positive feedback. I’m becoming a bad kid. People seriously expect me to be this star student after all the bullshit. I got expelled from my old school for participating in a gang, now I’m at my new school and with this amazing group of friends. But they’re not enough, I know that some day I’ll let go of them just like everyone else. I’m still a bad kid. I’m a fucking drug dealer. Hate me. Go ahead. Call me a bad kid. Say I’m not taking the right path. I’m so used to it, after ditching class all the time and doing all these bad things.

After all this, I’m still waiting for some attention from my dad. I don’t know why. He doesn’t care that I’m a gang member, he doesn’t care that I’m a mother fucking drug dealer. I want to stop but I don’t know how. I figure my worries will go away if I just kill myself. Wouldn’t that be so much easier?