I am tired. I am done. I want to go back to mom's, but it's not safe there, either. when I screw up there, I apparently look like you and she wants to punch me. when I'm with you and screw up here, you tell me to go and write a 1000-WORD fricking essay on WHAT I THINK IS WRONG. YOU WANNA KNOW? YOU!!! YOU. ARE. NOT. HELPING. I want some solace and peace and quiet, but NO, you have to call me out, say I won't get anywhere in life, that I'm not good enough, and that I need to change. THAT'S NOT POSITIVE REINFORCEMENT. RETHINK your methods and then talk to me! Not come back five minutes later and be all "I'm just trying to help you, because you don't communicate with me and I don't know what else to do." But as a matter of fact, I DO COMMUNICATE. I TELL YOU WHEN YOU'RE DOWN-TALKING (Because "I never yell at you") ME THAT I NEED TO SORT THINGS OUT FOR A WHILE, BUT YOU REFUSE TO LISTEN.
