Hmm… well it sucks. And I’m supposed to be optimistic.
Ah, well, life didn’t always suck, and I hope that in the future it is less crappy than it is today, but for now… it sucks old and rotten teats.
Why does it suck? I’m not telling, in case somehow someone reads this. Unlikely, I know, but I’m sure that the word would be able to shirk its “un” and wiggle its way into unknown hands.
Ok, so I’ll just go into the vaguest explanation I can. And hopefully explain my confused feelings.
Point one; my friends are crap. Yes, my friends are heaping to my slight depression. And shouldn’t they be the ones to try and dig me out of this hole? Well, they haven’t. They have no idea what is going on and I can’t tell them. Not anyone.
Anyway, why they are like sloppy turds. Or solid ones, it doesn’t matter. Friend number one (let’s call her Anna); she keeps making jokes(?) about me and making my terrible problem worse. She’s so mean without realising the damage she is doing. It’s like I’ll just insult you on something you’re already sensitive about and laugh about it while you feel like even worse crap than you already do. Gee, thanks so much. So much for my best friend.
Friend number two (let’s call her Milly); she seems content on insulting every imperfection I have in a “subtle” way, and yet all I do is compliment her on her looks. She is embarrassed by everything I do, looks at me like I’m a retard and tells me to stop being a freak. Oh, I’m sorry if the REAL ME isn’t good enough for you. Why the hell are you my friend if the REAL ME is just humiliating you, huh? I’m sick of her crap and those disgusting faces she makes that make me want to punch her in the face and laugh as she cries like a stupid idiot. Don’t like the real me, leave me alone, because the real me doesn’t want your effing crap anymore. I’m not offended by your insults, but you wouldn’t care if they did, would you? You don’t give a freaking piece of dog crap about what I feel!
Friend number three (let’s call her Rose); she hardly even talks to me anymore. I’m the one always having to start the conversation; otherwise her head is stuck in a book 24/7. Now why don’t we throw backstabber into the mix and she’s the greatest pal someone could ever have! Yes, agree to have a sleepover and not invite the douche Milly, and then a day later say “oh no, that’s mean, I can’t go”. And then next weekend have a sleepover with Milly and try and keep it a secret. Why don’t you just agree to stink bomb my house? Oh, you did agree to that! But you didn’t do it. Why? Because you, Milly and (let’s call her) Eileen are all wimps and knew you would get what’s coming to you. You are hardly a friend anymore. I don’t even know who you are.
And all three. They are all so uninterested in anything I have to say, unless it has got to do with them. I can’t tell them anything I have done that I thought was amusing or anything like that. It’s always about them, and their stupid interests that I am so nice to listen to attentively and reply with enthusiasm if I’m not tired or upset. Milly especially switches off when I have something to say. Like a slight frown comes onto her face when I open my mouth. I’m sorry that everything doesn’t revolve around you all the time. But you’ve got to realise you’re a freaking douche. Did you hear that? No you probably weren’t paying attention. But I listen. Even when Milly is talking about guys I listen. I listen to her stupidly talking about wanting to do IT with someone, and her making gross gestures with her tongue. But in real life she won’t even kiss her boyfriend (now an ex, of course). Anyway, I remember trying to tell them something that I thought was amusing, but they didn’t care, they just got a vacant look and so I just continue. I wouldn’t do that to them. Maybe I will now. See how it feels to have a friend that doesn’t care. Show them how it feels to be nothing. All I am to them is someone to voice their own interests at, and try and pretend that I’m a friend. This isn’t a friendship. I’m an empty shell that you think you can fill with your own being. It’s not going to work. I’m me, and I’m staying that way.
Okay, another reason life is a dead fish in a pond of sewerage.
My mother is a douche. It felt like she was going to choke me the other day like she did a few years ago. I got really freaked out when she was heaps close with her hands on my shoulders. I thought they were going to slip onto my neck and suffocate me. I didn’t let it show though. I stayed calm and she released me. But the memories she evoked of October, 2009, was terrible. I couldn’t breathe and she was just screaming in my face because a suitcase was slightly askew. I could hardly see because the tears in my eyes were throwing everything into distortion. And her whole weight was pressing against me, and I couldn’t fight her off, she was too big.
And my sister is just heaps annoying. That’s all I have to say about her.
And on top of all that, I am sick. Runny nose, blocked nose, sore throat, coughing, mum telling me to go to school, teacher tells me to stay home, homework while my head aches, schoolwork; can’t think, housework feel like crap.
But the big reason my life sucks at the moment is… Well, that I just can’t tell you. I haven’t told my friends, or my family. Not one single soul. I’m alone with this pain, this festering problem that eats at me and throws me looks of disgust. I can’t get rid of this problem, what if I never can? Forever in the hold of this horror, desperate with despair.
I am always alone. I am nothing.
That’s why my life sucks.
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