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Dear Diary...I've decided that sleep is for the weak. Why? Because I'm so fucking sick of the nightmares. I'm sick and tired of waking up my dads at ungodly hours because of my screaming and crying, unable to calm down. I'm fucking tired of my insecurities and that clown whispering in my ear that daddy regrets keeping me. That he should've given me up when he had the chance. Like mom did. I know daddy loves me. He says it everyday and always proves it. But...I can't help but think Pennywise was right. That maybe if I was normal, a normal good kid......that maybe daddy's life would be better. It's true. He'd be better if I wasn't manic & depressed. He wouldn't have to cancel his gigs when my episodes got so bad to the point that he was scared for my well-being. And that maybe...just maybe...his life would be easier......if I didn't even fucking exist. I'm thinking about this too much. I need coffee. Talk to you later, diary.
