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I’m not depressed. I just want to start with that. I know I’m fine because I’m a happy person. I laugh and smile with my friends and my family, except my dad. He hates me. He told me at age 12 I didn’t matter and we shouldn’t have a relationship and I don’t think I ever got over it. In a way, I’m glad he’s gone. He used to tell me how fat, lazy, stupid, dramatic, worthless, and alone I am. Still, I want to curl into a ball and cry whenever I spend the night at a friend’s house and have to see there perfect family eating breakfast and watching Saturday morning cartoons. Seeing there parents chatting while one of them gets out the cereal and the other makes eggs. He made me hate myself. I can go from being happy to shaking trying not to cry in a matter of seconds. I never want to let myself cry in front of people I love out of fear of hurting them. I never want them to feel the way I do. So I put on a smile, try to breath, and think of something that makes me happy. But the dumbest things make me feel a way I can’t describe. It’s kind of like being sad and angry and scared. For example, the smell of barbecue upsets me. I don’t know why and I don’t understand, but it makes me flip in a matter of seconds. I’m fine though.
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