I cannot get over how much my mental illness has disappointed my father. He loathes it. Tonight I called him having a panic attack, and he just yelled at me. As in, raised-voice I’m-not-even-angry-just-disappointed-yelling (It’s been a horrible night in virtually every way.)

Mental illness is hard enough without being an epic disappointment/disaster as well, you know? I’m not even mad or anything (STEALTH PUN! I am definitely, obviously, mad. Just not that kind of mad) just sort of………meh.