I’m tired. I’m drained of any kind of creative substance and yet here I am, FORCING myself to write. I’m scared that if I don’t write that people will lose interest in my blog and just stop visiting.
And the sad thing is that’s already started to happen. It makes me sad that’s happened. I’m starting to feel like I’m blending into the background, becoming boring and bland. Maybe I am and I’ve been kidding myself all this time. Maybe my writing really is a total pile of steaming shit and I need to stop deluding myself that it was ever going to be anything worthwhile. People tell me that I need to just write for myself, write for pleasure. But for me it’s not fun. I do it because it’s really the only thing I’ve ever been half way decent at. I’m a shit parent and a shit friend. I’m no good at anything else and I’ve been writing for most of my life, so I really don’t know how to do anything else. I tried singing last night but realised I sounded like a cat being strangled. I tried drawing, but everything I drew just looked like something my daughter would draw.
I’m scared. No, scratch that. I’m TERRIFIED that I’m turning into my mother. I love her dearly and she’s a great mother but me and her do not see eye to eye unless we’re doing something that she likes. She hates most of the things I like and I know that she would never come to a museum with me or a Hello Kitty store. She believes that all video games are a waste of time when she is a complete hypocrite watching tv all the time. But as to things she’s good at outside of work or being a mother? Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zero. And I’m scared that the moment I stop writing is the second I start cutting my hair off and wearing clothing suited for people ten years my senior. I know I’m a good mother, I know that Abby loves me. I’ve been told I’m a good friend and a good girlfriend.
But as I sit here at my computer, my brain circles round and round in panicked laps raging against itself. I don’t want to be boring. I don’t want to be dull. I don’t want to get to 40 and still have done nothing with my life. It tears my soul apart that I’m 30 and I’m literally a nothing. There are friends of mine out there that have had an easy life with their pre-planned weddings, kids and mortgages. I went the long way round and did everything backwards, I know this. I’m scared that I’m gonna get to 40 and my life be EXACTLY the same way. Still living with my parents, stuck with them now because I have to look after them. My brother laughing at me because I never made the leap to leave the house. Me laughing at myself because I was an utter fool to move back home in the beginning.
What gets me is that my cousin got a job in the same area as my new job. If you don’t follow me on Twitter, I got a new job. I’ve got a full time job with Three Mobile and I start my first day tomorrow. But all I’ve heard is ‘oh, I hope you like this job.’ ‘oh I hope you’ll be good at this job.’ ‘oh! your cousin works by you now, you should meet up!’
Fuck off. Right now. How about some support? How about you wishing me well? How about you know I can do the job? As for the cousin situation? Psh. I don’t need family. My family are the biggest bunch of hypocrites ever. Those years when I was being bullied in school or suffering with bipolar disorder? Or coping with being a pseudo single mum? Where were you fuckers then? Oh right. Too wrapped up in your own worlds to give a shit about me. So tell me again, why should I give a shit about you now? Why should I play happy families with you morons and pretend like everything is hunky-dory? Fuck right off. You two-faced bunch of cunts. I know, harsh words for blood relatives but frankly- my closest friends have been better family than my actual ones have. I’m just really sick of the attitude from some of my family members around me. I’m not actually sure I can trust ANYONE in my family to keep their big mouths shut when it comes to my issues.
I don’t wish to be treated like the black sheep of the family anymore. But I also don’t want to be treated like the retard locked in the cupboard either. I’m a person too. How about you get to know me first and judge second?