School started exactly four days ago. It wasn’t so great, and that would be an understatement.

For starters, my very first class is Speech. I don’t talk in school. I think maybe a ten sentences daily. (No joke.) So I’m petrified of Speech. I can talk easily, outside of school. Like if I’m talking to my friends, or adults, or just random people I know, it’s not a problem, but in front of all these kids in my class. I just…can’t. It feels like I’m getting constantly judged…And there is this row of the popular/stuck up girls behind me and one of them hates my guts just because her other friend from my old school doesn’t like me. It’s so annoying, but I manage to ignore it.

Then, I mentioned before I was terrified of being alone at lunch, well thankfully I do have D lunch with some of my friends. It’s okay and all, and as for classes, I do have some with my friends. This year is going better than last, at least. But still, it’s no walk in the park.

My dad is really on my case to get into sports and start clubs and all this other stuff. He just doesn’t get that I don’t like school. I don’t like the people in it. I just want to survive the seven hour day and crash after it’s done. I took a three hour nap after my first full day. It stresses me out that much.

But my dad won’t drop the sport thing. First off, I’m not athletic. At all. I’m the  girl who always has a sketch pad or notebook with her, not the one who is  tossing around a basketball in homeroom. And I’m a klutz. Seriously. Especially when I’m nervous or something. But he won’t give it up. He’s determined for me to play basketball and get into things.

What he doesn’t get is that I don’t think I can handle doing all these things when just going to school everyday is a struggle. He yells at me about it all the time. I know he thinks he’s doing the right thing, but he really isn’t. Trying to force me into all these activities will not make me any happier. If anything I’ll get more stressed and miserable trying to balance everything out.

And my mom. I’ve been trying to talk to her about counseling and how I have depression and everything, but everytime I try to, she changes the subjects. I swear she’d do anything to avoid the topic. I know why too. She doesn’t want to admit that her not every being home when I was growing up, and my parents constantly fighting, is what caused most of it. My mom is the type of person who hates being wrong. She’ll make up any excuse just to not have to admit she wasn’t right for once.

I think that’s why she sent me to the therapist in the first place. She just didn’t want to talk to me about it. Or my dad, because we fight all the time. My mom said that maybe he should go to counseling with me the next time and he said — to my face — “I would rather move out of the house before going counseling.” You have no idea how horrible I felt after that. It’s like, you’d rather move out than try to help me? Really? I think that my parents think that by sending me to counseling my problems will just magically disappear. But they won’t. Haven’t.

I’m at the point where I just don’t care. All I want right now is to try and make it through high school and then just get out of here. Far, far away. I guess I still have enough self preservation to still come on here and type this all out, but I’m not sure if that will hold out anymore.

I will be perfectly honest. I’m slowly giving up. I was doing pretty well until school started and more pressure began rising.

And what really made me feel like giving up, is I have no one left to live for. I have no real friends. The only few friends I have are the ones you only see in school and just talk shallowly about nothing. My family is broken and wasted. And God has been gone for two years straight. That leaves me. Alone.

I realized how lost everything was, but then I met that boy I talked about before. He made me feel important and alive. I didn’t feel broken, I didn’t feel useless, I could talk to him and it felt like I’d known him for years. He was the only thing stopping all this, but I know I can’t see him for another year in the summer and by then I am sure he’ll have found someone where he lives. So I am not even bothering to keep my hopes up, that’s why I think. I’m sick of trying to be strong and acting like everything is fine all day is so tiring.

I’m almost over the edge. And I know once you go over, you can’t come back. But right now, that seems to be the better deal.