Cellardoor

Why would my dad even bother to call me? Seriously. He is not a dumb man, when sober, and knows me damn well enough to know that I will never answer his calls, nor will I ever speak with him again. My guess is that he is currently shitfaced, and is extremely lonely.

Good.
I hope he fucking rots.

Wow, I'm such an angry person. Oh well. I have every damn right to be.
I hope one day to achieve true untainted happiness. Happiness that lasts. I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired. I'm hoping that now that school has started back up, and that I work full time I will think less about my incessant sadness.
Do you know the feeling, where you're sad... but when you think of the reasons why, you feel oh so small? Or you feel selfish? Or dumb for even being sad about something like that? Well, that's how I feel. I feel stupid for being sad. I feel stupid for telling my mom everything. I feel stupid at work. At school. I feel like people can see right through me. I feel as though right when people look at me they think, "oh, that's that girl that was addicted to coke and got an STD." "That's the girl that was molested by her father." "That's the poor girl." "That's the girl that needs to be prescribed amphetamines in order to lose weight."
Everyone sees me, except me. I don't know who I am. I don't know what I'm meant to do. I cannot cry, laugh genuinely, be HAPPY. I am so miserable, I sometimes think I am just one day going to lose it, go mad.
I haven't cried about what happened with my father. I can't cry when James and I fight anymore. I can't cry when my mother hurts my feelings. I can't cry during movies. I'm so numb. But I'm so emotional at the same time and I want to cry more than anything. But I can't. I'm a fucking vegetable. I fake my laughs. I am a robot. I do as I am told. I goto school, work, piss, fuck, sleep. I do as I am told.