I overdosed on painkillers again. I told myself i wouldn’t because it wouldn’t do anything. But i did. I keep telling myself i don’t deserve to live. Why does that make me feel better?
Mom thinks my despicable brother is the only one with mental problems. If it wasn’t so stupid, it’d be hilarious. She made me make him dinner, and then she gave me a hard time because i wasn’t feeling sorry enough for him. Said there was nothing wrong with “me”, now was there? I wonder how she’d describe my death wish.
I don’t think there’s anything mentally wrong with my brother, besides the fact that he knows how to play our mother.
I’m being incredibly unfair, but i hate him too much.