What Became Known as the Early Years

Okay. So, I hate my parents. Not like...I don't know. I'm not especially mad at them or anything today. They're just not good people. And I hate them. And seeing them everyday is killing me. I hate it that I'm like this. I wish I were a different person. Or that they had a different daughter who loved them or atleast liked them. They'd be happier, I wouldn't have suicidal urges so often.

I am not going to be sick. I am sick. I am one of those thirty year-olds who hates Christmas in the making. And I hate it! I want to be one of the amazing, sweet senior girls I meet who love their moms and treat them really well. But I can't. My mom curses in front of me and then goes to church on Sunday. She's half crazy. My dad said the s-word twice yesterday. He'll probly lecture me about skipping Youth yesterday. It makes me want to throw up. This family is a constant gag reflex. What's worse is they're all bi-polar except for Nick and Alyssa, who live in freaking Texas (can't blame their mom). I wonder if I have tricked myself into believing that all families are more or less like this. Obviously they aren't.

My dad has been angry at me all week because I skipped his choir concert to work on a school project. Excuse me for a moment. *runs to the bathroom, empties innards into toilet*

Ugh. I hate them I hate them I hate them.
How do you honor people you hate?
My worst fear is not that I'll end up like them. It's that I already am. I need to sleep. I've probly shaved 5 or 6 hours off of my normal pattern.

Talking about this makes me nauseous, but not talking about it is constricting my heart. Semi-literally.
Puking, puking,
Emily.

Today, in broadcasting, we had our party and Secret-Santa-ed. And Dennys got my name and he gave me Holidays on Ice. Dave Sedaris. What am I supposed to do with that? Who invented cursing and how might I ruin their lives? Anyone?