I’m tired.

My mother was diagnosed with caner at Christmas.

I have my A level exams next week.

I haven’t revised properly, haven’t had time to. I’m not using it as an excuse, I’m really not, but the stress of it all, it’s taken up my time. More than anything, my dad has taken up my time. Yelling at me. Constantly. Like it’s my fault she has cancer. And now, I feel like it is, I feel like I’ve fucked up everything, because he seems to yell at me for everything now.

And nobody cares about my depression. It feels disgustingly selfish, but I do hate it. I was diagnosed with depression three years ago and nobody ever asked how I was. I feel like screaming sometimes, because hey, I’m sick too. And it’s killing me too. I’m getting closer and closer to death and nobody cares to notice, not with my mother around.

I sound like an awful human being for saying these things. Selfish and arrogant and like a whiny child, but it’s true. Nobody visits when you have depression, nobody sends you flowers and cards and calls just to check how you are, and yet they all do for an illness like cancer. I love my mum, I hate that she’s got this, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to die way before she does.

And no-one realises just how far gone I am.