My house is a toxic place. My mental health is deteriorating. I just want out so badly I can’t stand it, but I’m stuck. I’m stuck financially, and I’m stuck because it’s my last semester of college. Part of me wishes I could just leave. Just stay in a hotel for a night, but I can’t. I have responsibilities, I have things tying me down. Even if I could, it’s only one night, and the situation still exists. I wish home were someplace I wanted to be. I wish it were a place I could take comfort in knowing exists. Instead I loathe it. I dread walking through those doors. I cringe at the thought of talking to him, pretending everything is okay while he’s off satisfying his own selfish desires. I hate that he does this to me. I hate that it’s always been about everyone else’s battles being won while mine have so clearly been defeated. It gets exhausting to have to keep reminding myself I’m worth it, and that this will pass when every day gets increasingly more difficult than the last. I’m trying though. I really am trying. Things are just hard right now.
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