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You would think by now my mother would get the hint and stop asking me “why are you always so angry?” I don’t fucking know why. Does she honestly think I enjoy it? Does she think that I enjoy the fact that I am incapable of expressing how I feel? I don’t even actually know how to put how I feel into words. I get myself physically sick over it. My head constantly feels as if it weighs 50 pounds. My stomach is in constant knots. My breathing is short because if I do let myself relax, even for a split second, I just start crying. I know how fucking pathetic and dramatic it is. Is my anger what fuels all my other emotions? Or is it some other feeling that is fueling my anger? I honestly just don’t know. I understand my behavior just as well as everyone else does, which is not at all. It makes no sense. I can’t even pin point the moment that I became like this because as far back as I can remember, I’ve always been this way. 

I feel this sense of abandonment from so many people but then when I step back and look at the situation, it was me that pushed them away. I drove them out of my life.

There is no possible way I can live at home and commute next semester.

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