Used, Abused

So. I'm having a bad day.

Except, this is me, so my bad days are always bloody soap operas.

I wish you could black out all the bad stuff sometimes. It's like someone who can't swim. They struggle and splash around, fight the water for a while before they have to give in and become consumed by it.

And that is one depressing metaphor.

My mother does not understand fucking sarcasm either.

I'm constantly feeling like the world wants me to give up. So many times last week i was tempted to switch off my phone and run, but y'know my rents would have gone spare, and tbh even if i'd have told them where i was going, they would have had a go because it's 'not a suitable way to deal with being upset/angry'. I use various coping methods, and well. They don't approve of any single one of them.

And to be honest, if they discovered this blog they'd probably say it was pointless writing it all down when no-one would bother to read it.

I actually feel like screaming and crying and hitting the floor.

May have to go down the forest and do so tomorrow. Or just run up the big hill, but that just makes it harder to get the hurt side of the emotion out. Does wonders for the angry bit though.

Sounds pathetic. But i'm kinda getting that horrid feeling of a few months back.

But hey. I don't show it, I don't matter, she's smiling, she can't be hurting.

Sure. Whatever you say. Because of course, you're always right and i just LIVE to please you.