mum:
you have such an easy life, yet you complain all the time and half of the work that you're supposed to do is never finished, what the hell is wrong with you?
me:
do you really want to know? last time I couldn't do my work because I was too busy on the internet looking up ways on how I should die, and the other night I was to busy trying to see whether or not I should eat or starve myself, and this morning I was too busy trying to see whether I should tear my skin open or not. so yeah, I have a pretty damn easy life right? but anyway you're right to shout at me, who'd want a daughter whose depressed, self harms and starves herself?