Since Covet-19 came to Ireland, my family has had to self isolate. It's not too bad, to be honest. I do my classes online, wake up 30 , minutes later than usual, change into comfy clothes, hang out with my cat, and just kinda vibe. 

The problem is being with my dad. 

Ok so I wrote that first bit at the start of quarantine, then left it at that. I didn't want to elaborate, but now I do.

I still see my scars and shit. It's not too pleasant a memory, ngl.

I just look at them and think, 'wow, that shit happened, and it still hurts'. It's been a while now. I don't think I'll go back to it for a while. They look so faint, but I can remember where they're from and who caused them. It hurts a lot. Especially when I want to start again. It isn't as strong as it used to be, but my arms still feel empty when I look at them. Like, not red enough. I really want to hurt myself right now.

Apparently, that's what I've been doing anyway. My dumbass sure does love hurting people. I wish I didn't, but whatever. My parents told me that what I'm doing is another form of self harm. I guess I kind of knew that already. I knew that I was hurting myself. 

I don't want to feel shit, man. It sucks. I don't want to feel anything. It's too much. My parents told me that I'm addicted to feeling dull. I know that as well. I'm trying to improve now. It's difficult, but I'm doing it. I don't want to get hurt again.

 It feels like my body is deteriorating from the inside out. I don't talk about my body much in a health sense. Usually just to hurt myself more. But my body is rotting away. I think I'm getting my dad's skin condition. I'm getting bruises and warts on my hands. I'm gaining weight, I know it. I get dirt in my eyes all the time from working in the garden. I think my eyesight is getting worse. Sucks because I'm supposed to have 20/20 vision. I'm tired all the time. Not tired like depressed, but tired as in I take 3 hour naps during the day. I can't push through. My legs and arms are bruised up because of my dyspraxia. My arms are cut up. I'm rotting away

I cry a lot more now. That's a good thing, because I used to never cry. But now I cry. I cry all the time. I'm a crybaby libtard now. 

I was supposed to talk about dad. I'm going to do that.

I've been trying to improve myself now. I ended up doing the one thing I hate. My friends do it all the time, using me as a vent box and making everything about them. I did that to my family. That's not fair on them. I'm changing so I can stop hurting them like how Liam and Xinyi and Maurice hurt me. I don't want to be like them. Xinyi is the person I had a crush on. They clearly don't like me. I'm moving on again.

I'm succeeding now. I made plans with a friend. I've never done that before. It seems small, but I've never started a conversation. I like to go to strong personalities that just drag me along so I don't need to make decisions. But today I made plans with a friend who doesn't make me feel bad. I like her as a friend as well.

My dad hurts me all the time. Like, emotionally. Every time I mess up or do something wrong, he rants to my mom how much he can't stand me and how I'm such a fuck up. He doesn't understand it. He lost his mom when he was a young adult, and he pushed through and got hurt. He doesn't understand how I'm still sad and anxious and awful when I have everything. I hear him every time he rants to my mom. I remember the shit he says. I don't know if I care or not. I care, but I get used to it. He never does that to Lorcan or Lyra. Just me.

 Everything is shit for my brains. I'm either self obsessed or unaware. I've been writing songs lately. Not going to share them. I've started one about him. The first time he said something was shit for my brains it was at a Bruno mars concert. It was for Lorcan's birthday. The crowds, the fireworks, the alcohol and the music was too much. I had an anxiety attack. My dad panicked and got mad at me. He said the music I listened to did this to me. It was shit for my brains. He apologized and we left the crowd for a minute. I still remember it.

The most recent one was this morning. I was talking to my mom about TY. I should've looked more enthusiastic. I was excited. I was really excited, but I couldn't show it properly. He got mad the second I left to play piano. Then he started his rant, and I heard again. We have thin walls and doors. I just snuck outside and sat there for a while.

He was nice to me for the rest of the day. He was understanding and friendly. That's the melody I like. When we sync up an connect. Then I slip up and he ruins it. I used to think that I ruined it, but now I know it's him. He was nice today though, and I love him. He's my dad, and my best friend.

I'm dying again. Right now, I'm dying. My body is rotting away and dying, and I'm dying with it. I get so sad. Not dull just sad. I'm so sad right now. I feel like an old woman who's rotting away and dying. And she's sad. Why am I rotting right now? This happens so often and I'm rotting and dying and ready to be eaten by worms. I'm rotting again.

The feelings passed again. I'm young again. I'm my age. What the fuck. I'm not dying right now. What the fuck is happening to me. I wish this wasn't how I worked. Dad said he wished I worried about normal teenager stuff. But I'm worried about rotting. 

Before the nice friend, I made plans with Xinyi and Mary and Julia. I love Mary and Julia, they're older than me by 2 years. They're going to college now. Theyve graduated. Now me and Liam are the gays in charge. They had to cancel, and Xinyi said that talking to me would be awkward. Mom told me to push the boundaries a little, so I asked if we could hang out anyway. You know, putting in the effort to move past the bad bit. They were mean. Of course they were. I'm told I habit of attracting the wrong people. I'm always in some toxic friendship. When I was trying to text Xinyi, I had a meltdown twice. No wonder dad thinks I'm a brat. 

I try not to be a brat. I do my chores with no complaint. I'm there for my mom. I appreciate my parents so much. They do so much for us. My mom came from nothing, and my dad went through so much, and they still managed to succeed and excel. I was born into their hard work. They got what they worked for, and they worked a lot. I know that I'm privileged because I'm in a well off family, considered rich in Ireland. I was born in Qatar, that's a privilege. I'm white, that's a privilege. I look straight and attract boys, that's a privilege. I acknowledge that and don't that it for granted. I try so hard to be good. I don't ask for things because I have more than enough. I don't need a knew phone, and I don't want them to buy stuff for me. I try to do nice things for them, like clean and cook breakfast and sometimes dinner. I do what I'm asked and treat them with respect. What am I doing wrong?

Is it the panicking. I make a big deal out of nothing. I do it because I hate myself so much. I know that I'll mess it up.

I need to stop now. 

That's all for now.