Will probably never forgive my mom and my brother for having six people over tomorrow.

There's a pandemic, in case you haven't noticed.

Hospitals are running out of ventilators, and these people are just inviting people over.

My mom has multiple risk factors, and when I told her I "Don't think having people over is a good idea" she told me it's too late now (??) and that I should just "stay in your room".

That hurt.

Because I didn't know how to tell my mom this, that it hurt, I showed here the three tweets.

She then came to my house and berated me for airing dirty laundry.

She says that living with me his hard (I know and I'm so sorry) and that it is her right to break the law in her house

I want to die.

I don't want to live anymore.

And I wish was brave enough to just end it, because I'm tired of being unable to function and being a burden to everyone.

She says she's tired of living on eggshells because of me (I know and I'm sorry) and I asked for examples and she says I asked her to stop vacuuming when I'm asleep or using a hammer on the wall when I'm sleeping.

She's more mad at me being upset than when my brother beat me.

And she was my only tether to not killing myself in the past.

And she hates me.

I don't want to live anymore, because everything hurts so much.

I'm tired, so very tired and sad and alone.

She was most angry that I posted it on Twitter ("what if a policeman saw it") so I lied and said it was on a private account with no followers, and she stormed off.

She brought up the fact that there are lots of people at my med-study (where everyone wears masks, where symptoms are checked, and disinfectant is constant) as an equivalent to having people over.

My brother was hovering around and when he but in I told him to shut up and I thought he was going to beat me again.

She asked me what I'd do if she wasn't around and I honestly replied I'd kill myself.

She probably thought I was lying or being melodramatic but I wasn't.

I have very few reasons for staying and now I have one less.

I'm terrified of dying but living hurts to much.

SHe says I should go live with my dad, a person she despise and a person she knows I've cut all contact with

I can hear laughing in the kitchedn and they're probably laughing at me

I wish I'd died when I was two months premature.

Too tired to cry anymore.

I don't know if things will get better or they won't.

That's were I'm at.

Not going to say I'm fine because I am not.

Not better, but no more decline.

(Relative) Stability is good.

Feeling a bit better.

Psychiatrist on Wednesday.

Haven't left my room except when everyone else is sleeping, and to go to the bathroom.

Not eating properly, but not starving - brought some biscuits in.

Asked my mom to pay my pocket money for this month.

She said no.

She then confronted me about how she found out that I lived about this being private because she got phoned by family and friends - including a "friend from America" who follows everyone in this family. Odd.

She says I don't do a thing in the house which is correct.

Except whenever I'm asked to do something. Then I always do it.

She always forgets those times.

"I shouldn't have to ask"

Yeah, well I'm Autistic and I'm always terrified I mess up and I'd get berated.

She's never bothered to learn what Autistic means.

I showed her a wikipedia entry for Schizoid once? Which was all she's looked at.

She always makes jokes when I say Auristic by asking why I never show her my paintings. I assume it's a pun on artistic.

I love her btw.

She's never fully accepted that Depression, or Autism, is a thing - but she's tried to I think.

She said now that I made her look bad by not deleting the tweets.

I said that I've tweeted how awesome she is, but she said no one remembers those.

The day of the first argument I googled how many painkillers it'd take to kill oneself.

I just now poured all the ones in our medical box out now.

Was going to just swallow them in the kiychen.

Couldn't.

She said Imade it out that she was a bad mother by saying how I was hungry and cold and wasn't getting fed.

Wasn't my intention.

Was tweeted because I have no one to talk to, a d tweeting things out made them real, like I wasn't just imagining things.

Was hungry because I was scared to leave my room and get beaten up by my brother.

And because I didn't have the energy to eat the biscuits I had.

I don't know what to do.

I've tried so hard. But no one thinks I have.

I don't blame the family who told her btw.

I know I'm monitored somewhat.

I just.

I don't know.

All of this because I was scared to have people over that could infect my mom with a disease she has vulnerabilities to.

And she hates me for making her look bad on Twityer.

Would I hurt anyone by dying now.

Ii sent think so anymore.

I thought I was doing better.

I still can't do it. Im still too scared.

But I want to die.
I don't want to be useless anymore

To hurt the people who pit up with me.

Couldn't finish university after I got switched to an easier degree

No hope anymoee

If I tell my mom I just tried to swallow enough painkillers to stop living, would she hug me or tell me good.

I don't know anymore

Would she be mad I made her look bad

I locked my door after I started crying and sat on the floor.

Too exhausted to get up.

Pills out of reach, but don't know if that's good or bad for me

I don't know the number for my psychiatrist and I don't want to call anyone even maybe him

My dogs would miss me.

I won't die today.

I'm so sorry if I made you worry.

I didn't mean to.

I just didn't know what else to do.

Going to have a shower, put the meds back, and then go to bed.

Will contact psychiatrist later.

Feeling better.

First "there's food out if you want it" since the 26th.

Don't feel like leaving my room.

Too scared.

Mentally hollow today.

Too tired.

Offered supper again.

Still couldn't leave me room for it.

Took me 45 mins to psych myself up to leave room to ask about transport to tomorrow's med-study.

Mom said she's defaulting into taking me because "no one else wants to".

Psychiatrist was less helpful that I wished.

In retrospect, mine was an unrealistic expectation.

As we got home I gave the Med-Study monet to my mom and asked for money to be put into my bank account.

She said only the money handed to her. R400, instead of the usual R900.

Said "I'm not tour fucking bank".

(I get paid R450 a week, but it's averaged to R400 one week and R500 the next.)

Used to have the money every week but this 2as annoying for my mom, so we switched to once every two weeks.

She said it with such vitriol.

I don't understand.

Suicidal again while in the shower.

Sat down and cried for a bit.

I ate the leftover small steaks that were in the fridge last night, and when I turned the water off in the shower I could hear my mom and brother in the kitchen saying how they wanted to eat said steaks and mean-spirited joking about how I'm starving.

But I'm not starving.

I said I was hungry more than a week ago because I was not eating normally.

I don't understand why you'd be saying that while the butt of tour jibes could overhear you, the shower is loud enough to hear when it stops

Overwhelming despair

Was a mistake not to end it the last time I tried

But I'm too much of a coward to do it

I can hear my mom be happy and singing but he vitriol she directed at me in those two sentences hurts

Andrew does not understand so many things

Life is not worth living. It's just pain and hurt and pain.

All of this pain because I was scared my mom would get sick and die.

Going to go to bed.

Horrendous brain space.

Thought I was a bit better after I woke up earlier, but that's not the case.

A little better today + yesterday.

In the med-study questionnaires, there was this question in one of the Depression rating scales where the question;

"Have you been moving so slow that it's noticeable (to yourself, or by others"

Because I've personally never manifested that aspect of Depression before, really.

Always been slow, and I although my mental speed has declined greatly my physical speed was mostly always slow.

But these last few weeks, boy howdy.

Been like moving through syrup.

The amount of cuts and bruises from bumping into things as well.

On the plus side, finally gathered enough energy to change my bed sheets - been a while.

New normal is me waking up at 6pm, and going to bed at around 6 am.

I stay in my room until everyone goes to sleep.

What kinda still bites is that the only people to check-up on me during the two horrendous depressive spirals were people on Twitter.

Not one family member (including those family keeping tabs on my Twitter) even sent a quick... anything.

Not angry, because it's not easy to try and intervene in a suicidal situation, just...

Many in my family always deride Twitter friends when I mention them.