STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! 

I am sick and tired of you! I just want to be normal emotions. 

I had 3 fucking relatives die. I should be sad. grieving. whatever. I should not be spiraling into suicide and depression and panciking and shit!

I don't fit in with my group. I should not be sitting here getting sad and weepy over the fact I stand out and don't know how to be a fucking friend!

I get a suggestion that was a bit more blunt than I am used to. I SHOULD NOT BE HERE BAWLING MY EYES OUT BECAUSE OF THAT! I SHOULD BE BAWLING FOR LOSING BOTH OF MY GRANDPARENTS

***AND RIGHT NOW I SHOULDN'T BE FUCKING MAD AND WANTING TO MURDER PEOPLE***

STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! [STOP RIGHT NOW!!!!!](/big!)