Since my last entry, my life has gone down hill even more.  I discovered that my grandpa has Cancer.  My mom has become more violent, physically and verbally.  I also lost some of my best friends.  As life passes on you discover who your true friends are.  For example in my case, at first I was afraid to tell my friends about my suicide attempts, because I was afraid that they would hate me for it.   Then I came to the realization that if these people were my friends then they would not hate me, but help me through the difficult times.  As it turned out I landed some amazing friends and they were and still are extremely supportive.  My friends are amazing I tell them more than I tell my family, and I even feel that they are my true family.  They are friends with me even though I have, cut my wrists, overdosed on drugs and had to have my stomach pumped, and many other things.  Now to the difficult topic of my mom.  I mean she is my mother and I love her, do not get me wrong, but sometimes I wish she was not.  She had a difficult childhood, her father (my grandfather) used to beat her with his belt when she did something bad.  Now let me say that she has never took off her belt and beaten me, but when she gets mad I feel like I should run for the hills.  She has not been diagnosed with sever anger problems, but if I were a psychologist she would be one of my worts patents.  She screams curses and throws dishes, and in some cases hits me.  I would not say that I am abused because I know that many kids have it way worse then me, and I have to admit sometimes I do deserve it.  Even thought I may deserve it sometimes, does not mean that she should hit me.  If I could I would tell her to go to a psychologist for her anger problems, but how do you tell someone that?  I guess thats all for now, I will be sure to keep you posted.

A lot of teens suffer from depression and I and one of them.  When I was 11 years old my parents decided they wanted a devorice.  I was completely devastated.  I always thought that I would live a happy life with a full and complete family.  The fairy tales that my mother read to me as a child always had a happy ending, but still sad stuff in the middle.  To sum it up the girl always go the handsome prince.  I thought that every family was like that, but as I got older I found out that my books lied to me. These princess had these perfect little lives and there were usually no really messy bits, but I soon found out that life is the messy bits. Anyway back to the story my father had been married twice before my mother, but no matter what I always loved him. My parents never really got along, but I never thought they would leave each other. While they were in the process of divorce I found out how wicked people could be. I found out that one of my fathers ex-wives was the one who segested the divorce in the first place! She was going to ruin three lives just so she could get some more money from my father. My mother got custody, but I saw my father every Sunday. One day my mother and I got into and argument and she told me I had to go live with my father because she couldn't stand to be around me anymore. I fought against it, but finnaly gave up. When my mother dropped my off my father was waiting and the door with open arms ready to comfort me. After I found out that my father couldn't have coustdy I realized that he didn't want me. He called my mother and an hour later she was there to pick me up. Over the summer my mother and I went on a vacation out West ( we have a travel trailer) we where on the road to Tennessee when my mother got a phone call. She smiled and said hello and the other person talked for a while and I saw the color drain from her face and her smile fade. She said goodbye and hung up the phone. I asked her who had called and she said it was my grandmother. From the expression on her face I knew something was wrong so I asked her what my grandmother had said. She told my it was best to wait until we were at a rest stop. I pleaded for her to tell me. I asked her if my grandparents had won the lato, or if they had gotten a dog or something of the sorts. She simply replied no. I pleaded some more and just kidding asked if my father had died ( he was 73). As she looked at me I knew the answer before I even saw her lips form the word yes. I couldn't believe it how could my father be dead. We had our differences, but I still loved him. From that point on my life was never the same. I still cry on a daily basics. I feel like I am worthless and that if I died no one would notice. I tried to commit sucide once and thought of trying again at least 5 more times. I am tired all the time and I am always sad. Although I have gotten very good at masking my emotion. To my friends I may be extremely happy, but I know that I am dying on the inside. I figured out on my own that I have serious Depression. Today I tried to run away from home. After my mom found me three miles from our house she gave me a serious talking to. I know she was just upset and means well, but she is just helping me dig my grave. When she asked me why I ran away I simply told her that I had gotten into a fight with my grandmother (which was true). But I knew the real reason I ran away. Today is January 20, 2012, on January 20, 1937 my father was born. The fact that my father would never be there to comfort me with open arms when my mom didn't want me has been sinking in for a while and today another 100 pounds was added to that weight and sunk me even deeper. I still have all of my family and friends, but I will always feel alone.