Dear Diary,
Today was not supposed to suck. Today was supposed to be the day that my therapist told me that I've improved. Maybe, if I was lucky (which apparently I'm not because it didn't happen) she'd tell me that I could stop writing in this idiotic diary. I don't mean to be rude, Diary, but its true. This whole idea of writing what I feel everyday, it's tiresome and it brings my mood down. I think she's stupid ,honestly.
Anyways, my therapist is a gold digger. She'll do anything to keep the money coming, even if it means labeling a teenage girl mentally unstable who just happens to be sad about her sisters death and her best freinds abandonment. Could you blame her for feeling the way she does?
Well, doctors orders are to tell you how I feel so here goes nothing. Today at 12:12am on a thursday morning, I write to inform you that I feel terrible, rotten, revolting, atrocious, horrendous, repulisve and unpleasant.
I hope she's happy.
From the still mentally unstable patient,
Randy
YOU ARE READING
Dear Diary,
Teen FictionThe diary entries of a troubled girl who wants nothing more than happiness.
