I hate my life right now.

I've been so miserable lately.

I didn't get to sleep 'til midnight because I was up crying 'til eleven thirty.

Why? I don't remember. Another stupid fight with my mother.

I hate that. I hate fighting. More than anything. I cry and cry and cry and cry.

I even started hyperventilating.

Not intentially of course.

There are only three other times I've ever hyperventilated because I was so upset.

First time: When I was really young. In a foreign hospital; I don't remember where it was. I didn't want to go into the docters. This is about the time my fear of docters/needles had really set in. I really, /really/ didn't want to go in there. I cried and held on to my mother but they pulled me off and I tried to go back and I cried so hard I was gasping, hyperventilating, but they pulled me into the room. I remember there was at least two nurses and I think there was two docters, too. They held me down on one of those flat plastic padded table/bed things and held a gas mask over my face until I passed out. I don't remember where I woke up.

Second time: I don't remember why I was crying, but this was a couple years later. I remember it because I was getting dizzy from crying, and that's what happens when you hyperventilate. I was scared that I was getting dizzy, because I didn't know about hyperventilation, and I told my mother (who I'd been fighting with) that I was getting dizzy and she told me she didn't care. I was somewhere within the range of eight to ten years old at the time.

Third time: October or November. I can't remember which. I'd had a seriously massive fight with my mother and we sat down to try and talk. Which upset me more because she was getting irritated and irritable when I couldn't answer all her questions. Another thing that upsets me is people that aren't pleased with me. I'd already been crying because of the fight, and this made it so bad I could barely talk between gulping gasps.

This week has sucked.

Mike invited me to the movie, and though it wouldn't have taken away from my studies at all, and made my week better, my parents insisted I couldn't go. At all. I negociated, begged, /pleaded/. I had a strong case, but parental units don't always run on logic. Or emotion, as I found out.

Life sucks.

Screw you, world.

.

Rosie.

Before&After