My mom said I wasn’t psychotic today, and I don’t need lithium. If she paid attention, she would know I have schizophrenia. She would know that last summer, I had a psychotic break. Because of her alone, I just want to run away and not exist anymore.
And then there’s my unmedicated brother who is high on the autism spectrum. He treats me like dirt and like I don’t matter. Maybe I don’t fucking matter. That’s what I’m starting to think.
My aunt is horrible. She’s prejudice and against LGBT people.
My family is making me want to die. But I’m not going to because of my boyfriend. He is literally the only reason I’m living right now. He’s the only one that makes life worth living.