Fuck the fuck off.
I don't appreciate your insinuations about me faking all my illnesses, and I don't appreciate the fact that you brought up a subject during the group meeting that I specifically asked you not to mention.
I clearly asked you to stop going on about it at least twice. You didn't.
I was so distraught that I started scratching my arms. Still you did not stop.
I buried my fingernails so deep into my arm that there are still bright red crescent moon shapes visible. You still kept going, with a smirky grin on your face the whole time.
I'm glad you were enjoying yourself, because I obviously wasn't.
You get off on other people's agony, don't you? Sadistic little bitch.
Please die soon.