2002AryanMaxxed1488
卐 5'6 Uggo with Rage, Depression, ADHD & Autism 卐
★★★★★
- Joined
- Dec 14, 2022
- Posts
- 14,733
I've already mentioned that LDAR is something my parents won't STFU about and leave me alone.
And doing LDAR long term, I've found the days pass by quicker and they feel more bland and tasteless.
This isn't to say I don't enjoy my days, (every day is one less day I have to spend on this rotten world) it's just that I wish I had some variety. And this lack of variety (among MANY other things) can depress me. That depression has not gone unnoticed, much to my chagrin.
My parents were already on my case for the LDAR, but now the depression has given them another reason to care/worry about me, or at least pretend they do.
I know they don't really care though, and here's why.
Where were they while I was depressed during childhood?
Where were they while I was depressed during the more severe stages of puberty and the vast majority of my teenage years?
Where were they when I attempted to rope not once, not twice, but THREE fucking times?!
I'll tell you where, anywhere but near me. And that's because my parents are gigaretarded normies who only pretend to care about me when they know they can get something out of me.
I could break my spine and they wouldn't lift a finger to help me. Meanwhile one of my sisters (gotta love neurotypical vagina preference) could sprain their ankles and they would split an atom.
They are giga twats.
And doing LDAR long term, I've found the days pass by quicker and they feel more bland and tasteless.
This isn't to say I don't enjoy my days, (every day is one less day I have to spend on this rotten world) it's just that I wish I had some variety. And this lack of variety (among MANY other things) can depress me. That depression has not gone unnoticed, much to my chagrin.
My parents were already on my case for the LDAR, but now the depression has given them another reason to care/worry about me, or at least pretend they do.
I know they don't really care though, and here's why.
Where were they while I was depressed during childhood?
Where were they while I was depressed during the more severe stages of puberty and the vast majority of my teenage years?
Where were they when I attempted to rope not once, not twice, but THREE fucking times?!
I'll tell you where, anywhere but near me. And that's because my parents are gigaretarded normies who only pretend to care about me when they know they can get something out of me.
I could break my spine and they wouldn't lift a finger to help me. Meanwhile one of my sisters (gotta love neurotypical vagina preference) could sprain their ankles and they would split an atom.
They are giga twats.
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