Eff this place

2 months since my last post.

Sometimes is shocks me how long it's been, and sometimes it feels as if an eternity has passed. This post is a bit of both, I supposed.

Living at my parent's house fucking blows. I hate it here. HATE. IT.

With every fiber of my being, I hate it here. I hate it just as much as I did when I was 13 and cut myself and was super depressed. I might even hate it more because at this point in life, I've had a taste of what I want my life to me like, and it is NOT this garbage. 

My parents are what I never want to be. They're close-minded and ignorant and they never shut the fuck up. Even if I don't speak back to them, they just fucking don't stop talking, and with my mom it's alllll nagging. She is the biggest nag I have ever met in my fucking life, and I hope to GOD I never act like her. I hate that she never does a goddam thing. She doesn't work, doesn't have any responsibilities, and stays home all fucking day every day. She makes my dad run every errand and complains about how "busy" she is when all I see her do is cook one meal a day and sit on the couch or sleep in. She complains that she's sooo depressed and that that's why she "can't" manage anything, but she's never ONCE made any effort to get better or fix ANYTHING in her life. Like, go to fucking counseling. Take meds. Figire it out. Your life is half over, and this is how you chose to spend it?? Locked away in this crap house, calling everyone you know a bad person and complaining?? She just locks herself up in the house, acting antisocial and complaining about the rest of the fucking world like IT is the problem. She asks me (tells me, essentially) that it's "my night" to do the dishes, when I don't eat any meals at this fucking house, and haven't even cooked anything in two days. She calls me literally yelling about something that she "can't handle" at least once a week and acts like a crazy bitch about things that she should not even fucking worry about. She. Is. Fucking. Nuts. And I cannot keep living with her - she lets me have no peace.

As soon as I have some money put aside and can find a place, I'm out. I need to. My sanity depends on it. 

In other news, I have fallen in love with the gym, and as soon as I get back to normal eating and not this shit she feeds people out of cans every goddam day, I'm going to look fab.

Dear Lord, get me out of here, please...