I'm starting to notice how mean boys have been to me my whole entire life. Boys have relentlessly been cruel to me my whole entire life. I can't even talk without them making a comment. I can't even speak in class without them making some joke about me. Why? I don't understand what I ever did to make boys hate me so much. I look at myself and I'm just, ashamed, almost. I think people are embarrassed of me. Even this morning, I went into the car freaking out and my mom just told me to shut the door and to hand in a permission slip today and I'm like, you're not going to say anything about me being upset? She just said, "I'm used to your overdramatic self."

That hurts, you know?

Nobody validates my feelings. Nobody. No wonder I go crazy in my own mind.

Another thing.

When someone kills themselves or becomes depressed, or shoot up the school or something equally as terrible, so many people always say "I wonder what made them so sad" or "You never would have imagined they might snap one day."

BUT YOU WOULD. Everybody just chooses to ignore it! Why are you wondering when it's so blatant? Why is it so hard to believe when it's been so obvious for so long?

I've been called a freak so many times. I've been called a nutjob (by my own father), melodramatic (my mother), a bitch (by my sister) and... well, my brother curses at me sometimes, but I don't feel that he actually is directing anything at me. My other family members do though.

My dog is not allowed to die. She is the only one in my world who takes me as I am, no exceptions. She doesn't care about my mistakes or anything, she only cares about kissing me when I cry and loving me all the time.

She's so old. When she goes, I will shatter into billions of pieces. She's my best friend.

She notices when I'm gone.