I'm....sick?

Yeah. I know. It's a crappy excuse. But hey, it's true. Then y'all be like, "Get well soon!" "I hope you'll feel better!" and all that . But I'm not sick that way. Not really. 

I AM SICK. 

I AM SICK of my parents. I AM SICK of my brother. I AM SICK of my family. I AM SICK of guys. I AM SICK of girls. I AM SICK of people. I AM SICK of orange juice. I AM SICK of life. I AM SICK of the world. I AM SICK of every ing thing in this ty universe.  I AM SICK OF BEING SICK. 

I AM LITERALLY SICK-- in the head

A while before, my mom brought me with her to somewhere. I thought we were only going shopping and all those girly mother-daughter stuff. But we ended up in a medical center, AT THE PSYCHOLOGIST'S CLINIC. I asked her why, and she said that she caught me crying all by myself in my room in the middle of the night, only listening to music and that I keep isolating myself from the world. And my turtle, Tomo-kun, which I changed his name from Ddangkoma because my parents can't pronounce his name, died, just so you know. Why? MY IMBECILE OF A BROTHER ING DROWNED MY BABY AFTER FOUR BULLTING DAYS OF OWNING HIM and THAT is not helping. 

So, I went in the clinic and the doctor bombarded me with HUNDREDS of questions like "Have you gained or lost weight rapidly recently?" and "Which season do you hate the most: Spring, summer, fall, or winter?" I answered all of them and he sent me out to talk to my mom. 

Next thing I know, my mom comes out of the office, CRYING. She wails at me on how I haven't told her why I was isolating myself. Then I come back in the office and all I get is the worst news. And I just HAD to get only a like...two days before 2012. 

I have major depression, and cyclothymia. Don't know them? GOOGLE IT. Please? I just feel so...I don't know to explain it. My doctor, which I shall call 'Cavedude' from now on can't even determine whether I have cyclothymia or just a plain bipolar disorder. Cavedude perscribed me with two bottles of pills, one is for my insomnia, and the other is for mood stimulation. 

When my mom told my dad about it, he just laughed at me, saying he won't force me into sports anymore and no wonder why I was so crappy in playing. He talked about it with my mom privately, and he talked to me about it. He even called a family meeting to let my brother understand. 

It's true though. I AM depressed. I may seem all witty and cheerful on blogs and online, but personally, I'm not.