How can they expect me to believe I'm not bipolar? I took a depression test some days ago and it scored less than 30, which meant I wasn't depressed. Now my amount of points is 64. I wanna die. I wanna die. I can't stand the mood swings anymore, nor the depressions. When I'm okay, my hopes rise way too high, just to crush again, harder every time. I'm alone, I'm stupid, I'm bleeding, I'm crying, I'm more dead than alive, and no one cares. I could stop it all, I could end it all, but I don't want to, I wanna
live. I wanna see tomorrows dawn, I wanna get married, I wanna travel, I wanna kiss somebody. But I can't stand the pain anymore. This is gonna be a fateful week, I'm sure about that. I'm grounded until sunday. Will I make it till then? Probably, but more like a zombie than as a human. While I'm here, dying, my mom is in the room next door, laughing, having a good time, after ruining her daughter's life, or more likely, her daughter's existence. My future seems hopeless, just like my present and my past. My life seems pointless. It'd be much easier if someone killed me. I can't cope with this anymore.