1. routine.

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pain. that's what i felt when i woke up the next morning. it wasn't physical pain. it's hard to explain. i started off with the same routine every morning. i struggle to get out of bed due to not having the effort. sometimes i wake up and think to myself, 'what's the point? it's just the same thing over and over again'. i step onto the cold hardwood floor of my bedroom and make my way to the bathroom. i open my cabinet and take out my anti depressants. i put one in my mouth and swallow it. after dreading for the rest of the day, i finish my daily routine.

"alice!" my older brother luke called. i walk down the steps slowly, trying to stall. ashton, michael, and calum were all flopped around the living room, fast asleep. i checked the time. 8:30 am. "can you help me wake them up?" luke whined. i loved the boys to death and he knew they would wake up if the wanted to. i threw my shoe at calum, (my personal favorite). he woke up and flipped luke off. luke then pointed to me, telling calum i was the one that threw the shoe. i lied down next to michael and slowly poked him awake. he fluttered his eyes open and looked at me. "it's too early, ali." michael scoffed. i just shrugged. i went over to ashton and flipped him over to his side. he got up and giggled.

i guess i should explain everything. luke hemmings is my older brother and we live with his band mates. my parents agreed to let me live with him since he's over 18. calum, who i kind of sort of maybe have a crush on, is the lost puppy looking one. michael is the one with the red colored hair, and ashton is the really buff (kind of hot) one with a bandana.

"hey bitches wus good" crystal ironically said while walking through the door. we all laughed. crystal is michaels girlfriend. southy came out of the bedroom and went to greet crystal. he's practically her baby. i lightly chuckled and went upstairs.

i pull my hair out of the ponytail i threw in this morning because i was dreading brushing my hair. i have a huge knot. it happens almost every week. i get too tired and too depressed to take care of myself and it gets so matted. i pick up the brush and attempt to tame the mane. i start to cry because i'm having no luck whatsoever. my life is a mess and im only 17. i sat on the toilet seat and sobbed. why is my life like this. why out of all people it had to be me that got diagnosed with depression. why do i have to wake up with knots in my hair all the time. it's a constant battle with me vs life and i feel like i'm loosing. i know that's something a "depressed" 13 year old girl would say on her snapchat story when her parents yell at her because she had an attitude. but it's true. i can't take it anymore.

i really can't.

after an hour or so of crying on the bathroom floor i walk downstairs slowly and call crystal up. she's like my big sister. "ali what's wrong? are you alright?" she questions me, clearly worried. "my hair. i hate it. it always gets so knotted and nothing works anymore" i say as my voice breaks. "oh honey" she frowns. she picks up some cocoanut oil and runs it through my hair. she picked up the brush and started brushing aggressively. "this may hurt and i'm very sorry. just yelp if you want me to stop" she said. "no. i need this out whether it hurts or not. i'm tired of it." i cried. she nodded and got to work. after about an hour or so she finally finished. "it may take a couple showers to get the oil out but you're rat free" she sighed in relief. i hugged her tightly. "thank you so much crystal. you're such a life saver." i cried. "anytime, love" she spoke softly.

i do consider myself pretty. but i do have my insecurities. lately i haven't been feeling myself. my nose seemed to be getting bigger, my eyebrows seemed to be getting bushier, my cheeks seemed to be getting fatter. i frowned as i stood in front of my mirror. see, most girls would frown because they gained weight. i would kill for that. i'm a boney mess. i have no butt, no boobs, you can partially see my ribs and i can't find pants that fit me because my thighs are too small. no, i'm not anorexic. i just have trouble gaining weight. i eat like a pig. trust me sis. however, i did like the way i looked when i had my makeup done. i felt complete. i felt happy. i've been trying to take care of myself the best i can. it's not working like i wanted it to but it's getting there i guess.

i swear this book isn't going to be full of complaining or sadness it will get happy i promise but rn it's dark :( but uhh comment suggestions:)

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