The seed of hatred I mentioned a month or two ago? Yeah, it’s growing. I deal with parents that don’t even try to get it. I walked in the door last night, all nice a cheery. My mom asks me how my day was. I’m like, “Well, it was a bad day.” She asks why. I say, “I had a bad depression episode today.” She rolled her eyes, sighed, and walked away.
Who DOES that? My mother, that’s who. After we have at it for a couple minutes, I give up and go up to my room. Later, my dad tries to play peacekeeper. “You don’t know how it feels for us, with all that we do for you, and you come in and say ‘depression’.” I’m all, “So you don’t want to deal with it.” I didn’t get a clear answer. Well, I have to deal with it. I thought you were there to help, but I guess not. “I’ve had depressing situations, too. I haven’t let them get me down.” I try telling him, “But you don’t have something in your brain screwing everything up!” I told him this at least three times during the conversation. Probably more. Never got a real response out of him. They’re not even trying to get it. He’s like, “We’re paying for your meds, for your counselor, we’ve gone three times to see her.” But they haven’t learned anything. Everything the counselor says goes in one ear and out the other. They just don’t want to get it.
I need to get out of this house. Now.