But that might upset some people so I can't.
On a scale of 1 to 10, how fucked up is getting the urge to go up the lane while you're cutting business cards at work? Nothing to prompt it, just... to see how it turns out.
Would I bleed to death in the middle of the store? Would anybody honestly care? Like, anybody who's actually there. I'm pretty sure that there are some people that care, but theyre nowhere near where I am.
And just a request for those people who are within my general viscinity, could you please stop using me for your own means? I really don't appreciate it. I mean, as long as you're willing to use me for whatever, I'm going to go along with it because God forbid I should ever upset anyone or do something that isnt what they want me to do.
But, seriously, if I were to do everything everyone wanted me to do I'd be all of the following; a psychiatrist, a secretary, a uni student, an actor, a singer, a girlfriend, a fuck buddy, a maid, a nurse, I'd be tidy, I'd be dilligent in everything that I do, I'd disown my cousin, my aunt, and my uncle, along with a couple of my friends, I'd never ever ever mess anything up, I'd brush my teeth 3 times a day and go to bed at 9, I'd weigh about 20kg less than I do at the moment, I'd never need to take another sick day because I had crippling period pain again, I'd have never picked up a razor and started shaving, I wouldn't wear revealing clothes, I'd go to church every Sunday and pray every day like a good Christian, I'd have aced the HSC and have done every scrap of homework I'd ever been given, I'd never swear or give anybody lip, I'd have epic novels as light bedtime reading, and I would hardly ever use the computer or turn on the television, while being a social butterfly and not being the slightest bit of a spaz.
I've been wondering how much life is actually worth living a lot more than usual lately. Jim Beam and Mishka are my new best friends and I consort with them on a nightly basis.
Can somebody give me an honest to God reason for keeping the charade up and not either end it or just stop altogether?
One positive thing to come out of this is that I'm definately honing my acting skills. Either that or everybody here's just completely fucking oblivious to me, or they just dont care. They all seem to be under the impression that I'm OK and that I don't need any support or anybody to lean on. They don't get that this is all hard for me, too. Sure, I'm not getting it quite as bad as Nat, but EVERYBODY is there for her. A. Irene and Sarah have got it pretty damn bad, too. But those 3 are the only ones I ever hear about. I just dont understand why I have to be the emotional crutch for the lot of them when I'm losing these people, too.
I havent even been to see Warren in Lismore. And I think that they think I havent been because I dont care. Which isnt true. I do care. But I've never had terribly much to do with the man, and the little I have had to do with him have made me feeling very uncomforable. As well as this fact, I'm not exactly good around sick people. Especially not sick people who are zonked out 99% of the time. I dread every day because it means that I have to go and see grandma, and she seems to change where she thinks she is every day.
I don't want to watch these people die.
I don't want to remeber them like this.
I don't want to deal.
I don't want to.
I just want to go back to when everything was safe and normal and nobody was dead or dying and I had a support system near me and people actually cared. I want to go back about 13 years, to before Aunty Mary died. Before she got sick. Before Uncle Danny died. Before I had to worry about anything more terrible than Claudia pulling my hair or Elise poking fun at my clothes. Where my biggest worry in school was that I couldnt remeber the 4 times tables. Where the computer didnt network me to 100 people that I havent spoken to for years, and 4 people who ease the pain of living for a bit. Where mobile phones were as big as suitcases and the thought of owning one was laughable. Where Hey Hey, It's Saturday was a weekly event that we all gathered around the TV for, and I still idolised real people.
When did life get so fucking messed up?
And when did I start sounding so damn emo?
Apparently I've been acting longer than I thought.