and you leave feeling drained but lighter.
but the next day, it’s all still there, waiting to be dealt with again.
i feel like i’m drowning. i can’t walk away from my parents but they are pulling me under this tide of depression and illness and i don’t know how to deal with it. i get angry, resentful, irritated by every little thing – even when they say thank you – or worse still sorry – i hate to hear it, and i hate myself for not being florence nightingale and mother theresa but i’m not. i’m selfish and angry and bitter and sore and i hate being here.