I hate living here

It should be noted, that I live with my parents. I hate being here. I hate being around them, I always have, as long as I can remember. I don't want to live here, but seeing as I can't get a job, and I have no friends, I can't live anywhere else. The only thing I had to talk to, was my cat Neville, and he ran away, or died, or something. I haven't seen him since Friday.

Anyway, I want to spend the smallest amount of time possible around my parents. So, needless to say, I spend a lot of time in my room on the computer or reading. Since I have no actual people friends, I drown myself worlds that only exist inside other people's imagination.

Today I was eating dinner and my mom walks into the room, sees me and throws a newspaper at me, and says: Read this there's an article about how one of the restaurant in town lost it's liquor licence because of the accident. I put the paper down on the table because I have no interest in the subject and she freaks out and asks me what my problem is.

The accident, happened about a year and a half ago, a kid I went to middle school with was killed whilst driving too fast after drinking too much. I live in a small town, it was all anyone talked about for, like, a year. And my mom doesn't get that it bothers me when she talks about it like it's just some person I didn't know. But it is a person I knew, it's a person that shows up in the "People you may know" section of my facebook all the time. A person I spent seven years of my life with every week day between September and June. He was the first person my own age that I knew to die. She just doesn't get that. I don't want to read news paper articles about it, I don't want to drive down the road to see the new memorial. I don't want to listen to people talk about it all the time. And she doesn't fucking get it.

Yes, it was a year and a half ago. No, I'm not over it. No, he wasn't my friend. No, I didn't even like him all that much. Yes, the last time I saw him he waved to me and I hid behind my now former best friend. But whatever, stop talking about it like I'm not supposed to care anymore. Because I do, and I always will.  

I'm sick of being told I'm lazy and doing nothing. I'm sick of being told I'm not good enough, or smart enough to do things. I'm sick of living with a group of people I can't stand. I want to get out of here. I hate when I'm told I'm not trying hard enough to get a job, because, seriously, no one wants a job more than I do. I want to get out of here and never look back.

AND THAT IS THE END OF THE STORY

I'll answer the questions that were left on Yesterday's post tomorrow.