I just don’t understand sometimes. I just don’t. I just had a conversation with my mother, again. And guess what it was about. Yep, it was about money, and my stepfather, and my brother, and everything.
She poured it all out to me again, just like when i was 15, everything on me again. I stood there with my arms crossed and pinching my side until it hurt more than I could bear so I did not show emotions. Show weakness. Again I am doing this. Again I feel like I have to just listen and try, try to help her and the house.
She told me how my stepfather is driving a wedge between her and him, and him and me. There is no wedge between my brother and I. There is between mother and him. There is a rift between my step father and mother. You know what would solve this?
They say money doesn’t buy you happiness, but I’d rather cry in my Ferrari than a cardboard box. I couldn’t agree more. But in reality that won’t help all the problems. But it would certainly solve a few. Next year my brother will leave for univeristy, fingers crossed. I am terrified for him leaving. I will be alone.
I don’t have a girlfriend. I don’t really feel too comfortable directly approaching my friends anymore with my problems. I don’t even feel like I can talk to the people I would like to about it because I become my mother and burden them. So what do I do?
Alcohol? Will that numb and make me forget? Nope, just give me a hangover and waste my money and possibly be very damaging to my body.
Succeed in life? How? I am a failure of a person, I am lacking in more ways than I can describe, but most of all, who would want to employ someone like me. Someone who doesn’t even believe in themselves. Someone who cannot even sell themselves. Speaking of which I would be a crap gigolo as well.
So what is the point in this post? Keep going? Keep trying? Life will get better? Life will be ok?
No, it is just me writing. Why? Because I burden you. You strangers out there who will never see me, never meet me and never be able to actually make a true difference physically in my life. Emotionally you may be supportive with words of hope and encouragement, but ultimately, If I disappeared and stopped blogging, or opened a new one and closed this, there is absolutely nothing you could do about it. Nothing at all. You are disposable friends. You are all basically just pixels. In fact the majority of you could just be internet trolls.
Ultimately you can trust no one in this world. And I don’t trust myself. So I guess that means I’m Fucked.