Wake up.
Shower in water so hot it burns.
Brush hair.
Get dressed.
Do makeup.
Go to school.
Eat through 1st 4 periods.
Eat lunch.
Don't talk.
Que depression.
Hide it.
Laugh my way through 5th, 6th, and 7th.
Ride bus home.
Get made fun of by sister.
Get home.
Brush hair.
Hide tears.
Get yelled at for something stupid.
See boyfriend (maybe)
for a moment.. Everything's okay.
Get home.
Skip dinner.
Realize everything bad about self.
Strip naked and crawl into bed.
Cry myself to sleep....
Wake up.

Dear Laura.

I know it's hard sometimes. I know I keep promising to always be there for you, and I keep my promise. Every time you cut I'm there, I understand, I hold you when you cry, I make you happy (or try to). But.. When you don't need me anymore, I become invisible. In the mornings I wait to see you walk through the door, but you ignore me anyway. When we're at lunch, I sit at the end of the table, alone, and you still don't talk to me. No one does. I know that you have your own shit going on. I know your dad is an alcoholic, and he's rude and sometimes abusive. I know that you don't always feel loved and you feel like your siblings hate you, and that sometimes you feel like you have no one to live for. I know you cut almost every night, and burn sometimes, and have attempted suicide a few times. But let me tell you some secrets.

My psychiatrist almost called child protective services on my dad, because he drinks so much that he doesn't know me anymore. My dad and I used to be best friends, and now he barely even talks to me. He allows my sister to mock me, call me a whore, and verbally abuse me to the point of almost cutting, and even joins in sometimes. He has never been proud of me, and he's hit me 3 times.

My step-mom is a neat freak, and likes to walk into my room and make fun of me. Her dog is more important to her than my sister and I will ever be. We weren't even invited to her wedding to my dad.

My younger sister judges me for everything I am. I feel like I have to live up to her expectations, because she's perfect. She has straight A's, perfect looks, and a few really close friends that she wouldn't give up for anything. I am forced every day to try harder because she is setting standards for me that I can't meet. She verbally and emotionally abuses me. She likes to accuse me of being "overly dramatic", and "bitchy", "rude", "disgusting", "fat", a "shithead", and many other things. She doesn't stop when she knows it hurts, and she doesn't realize that the only reason she hasn't been hurt by my dad is because I took the fall for her when she did something stupid.

I don't see a counselor, or a psychiatrist, or a therapist, or someone else. I found out the other day that I see a Psychotherapist. She is one of the best friends I've ever had, and doesn't judge me when I tell her things.

I rely on my boyfriend for more than just comfort. He is one of two people who offer me life support. He doesn't always know what to say, but somehow he always makes me feel better. In his arms I feel untouchable, and when I leave them I'm afraid of everything. I cling to him. He is the only person in my whole life who has ever said "I'm proud of you." directly to me. He is the only person who knows about my disgusting addiction, and I don't know what I would do without him. He never once has compared me to my sister in any way. Sometimes I feel like he is the only person who knows I exist. 

You, even though you say I'm your best friend and you don't know what you would do if I wasn't here, you still ignore me. I was having a horrid day and the only thing you said to me all day was "can I have some?" and you took my food and ignored me the rest of the day. You say that you check everyone's wrists, because you don't want them going through what you are. Too bad you didn't check mine. I know for a fact you never have, because I write things into my skin that I've started to believe are true.

I feel like I don't belong anywhere. Not even The Movement feels right to me anymore.

But I don't blame you. I'm used to being invisible. It's okay. Just lately it's been hurting a lot more than it should.

Fuck. (Tons of swearing.)

I HAVE TWO FUCKING MONTHS TO MOVE.
It's not fucking fair.
I'm happy here god damn it! This room is MINE. It's got MY candles and my satanic shit and my fucking artwork in it. My house, my room. It was only on the god damn market for 2 FUCKING WEEKS, and now we have 2 months to move. I like my god damn house. It's perfect. It actually feels like a fucking home, unlike my other house, which feels like I'm living in a god damn hotel all the fucking time. I already fucking moved once in the last year I don't need to fucking move again. This is wayy too much for me..
I feel fucking invisible.
The only person I have is my boyfriend and I love him I just feel like I'm putting my problems on him and expecting him to fix all of them and that's just not right, you know?
I also have Eric but I don't want to complain to him all the time, he has his own problems to deal with and he doesn't need mine on top of them.
I have the Movement but it's not like they really notice when anything is wrong either because I have such a good act.
My grades are gonna go to shit.
This is so much.... I don't even know how or even WANT to begin to deal with this.