Going... Going... GONE!

I have just potentially had the worst possible day of my entire life.

It took them seven, long, heartbreaking months for them to make a descision. But now they have. Social motherfucking services have decided on whether to take away my little sister or not.

She is going to be taken away.

I tried so hard, and got so far, but in the end, it doesn't even matter! ~ Linkin Park, In The End.

It says it all, doesn't it. I spent seven months fighting the bastards, all in vain. They don't quite get it. It's not going to benefit anyone. It's not going to benefit them, because firstl, they don't adapt well to change, and secondly, they're just going to be DUMPED into a place with people that have had what? Maybe three years of training, ten years of experience? Put that against our lifetimes of looking after them, Doesn't exactly match, does it? It's also stupid taking her away when she's a teenager. Helloo, she's thirteen, well almost. It wouldn't be as bad if she was like, three. BUT NO, THE BASTARDS HAVE TO TAKE HER AWAY WHEN SHE'S ALMOST THIRTEEN. It's going to obviously completely break my parents... as for me... I think you can already tell how it's affected me.

What is a childhood? I've lost so much of mine that I've forgotten what it is. Social Services have chosen the worst time of my life to fuck up, haven't they? Bye bye GCSE's! I can't focus on you, I'm too busy getting my life fucked up by social services!

This is why Mikey Way, Gerard Way and Chester Bennington are my role models. They're not my role models BECAUSE they did drugs and were raging alcoholics. It's becasue they were able to dig themselves OUT. That's something that I can't do. They had the strength and guts to do it. They had the support. I don't. That's the thing. A victim so often that I've forgotten what strength is. Frank Iero isn't a role model BECAUSE he'd go out on a friday night, take pills and wake up on monday morning, unable to remember the weekend. HE COULD GET HIMSELF OUT OF THAT RUT! I can't.

I know that some of my internet friends are giving up on me because I'm pushing away everything that they say. I know that I'm making some of you feel terrible inside, and some of you cry. I HATE MYSELF FOR PUSHING YOU AWAY. I HATE MYSELF FOR MAKING YOU CRY. And now that I've had something that I could cry about, I gave myself a headache from crying so hard because of all of my guilt. I beg you my internet frineds, this is the time that I need comfort the most. I hate having my life crashing around my ankles. I hated having to go into the doctor's surgery today to have a blood test to check if I have got anaemia or not. I hated her having to do it twice, because the first vein collapsed and wouldn't give blood. I hate my life. I hate myself, and I don't think that that ever can or will change. I simply want this nightmare to end, and I don't think that it can.

Talking of nightmares, I had one a few nights back that I didn't understand at first. But now I can. Here's how it went.

I was at school, and this new religion was starting up. Alex Gaskarth of All Time Low came up to the group of people that I was with and asked some of us to try it, and so I did with somebody else, but I had no clue of who it was. He lead us into a part of the school that I had never been into, and we were given pendants in the shape of two pence peices, and also had other pennies which we then had to press against this stone wall, and then close our eyes and focus as hard as we could. I was actually quite good at it, and so carried on. The next day, in the dream, when I came back to do it again, the other guy that I had been with pointed to the other wall, where there were portraits of Alex which hadn't actually been painted into, and he had been fabricated into, and the guy panicked. I was alarmed. Alex uneasily explained that it was at a great cost to ourselves that we did this, and how Wolverine's face had been melted off when he had done it. Both off us then left, and I was wailing, because Alex had talke dof savign societies and things like that, and I wailed as I left, "At least I tried... at least I tried..."

It didn't initially make sense to me, but my mum basically explained to me that I meant that I was scaed as shit about something. Now I come to think about it, it makes perfect sense. I highly respect Alex Gaskath, and in some respects, I care about him.I get upset when people insult all time low. I also care about wolverine. But it's my words that made sense the most. The dream was a warning. It was abotu my fight with social services. I treid to save her from them. I just couldn't. Jut as I couldn't commit myself to that nightmare religion. And now I've lsot my sisters.