Of late, I find myself wanting to just break down into tears at random points. Sometimes, it really is due to things going on around me, but mostly it's just random.
I think I'm quite fed up with all the shite I've had to put up with in my life. I suppose it would have eventually gotten to me, but I'm really fucking tired of it.
My left ear has been ringing for days... I have been thinking I might be getting some form of infection from this black mould thing at work, which would explain it if I am, but then part of me worries that it's not because my left eye has been semi-blurry for about three weeks, which is longer than I've had the job.
Yeah, so obviously if you know me, you know what I'm thinking - it's got to be something doing with the tumour.
And no, I don't want to know for sure. I don't want to know anything doing about that fucking thing. I really am to the point where I'm just ready for it to either be the fuck over one way or the other. I know that's rough for you to read, because I know you lot care about me and all, but ... fuck sake, I just can't fucking deal with this anymore.
It never ends.
And
laereth knows that I've always tried to keep a good face on things. She's known me since I was, what, 13? She's been there to see every fucking thing I've ever gone through... You know, I honestly think most people believe I make this shit up. How could one not, really? I listen to myself, in my head (or talking to myself in an English accent, because it makes me feel a little closer to my chosen home), and I wonder sometimes if I could really have gone through all of this and still be alive...
I've known people who talk about committing suicide, and I've had to seriously think about it. My entire time in Edinburgh, during the infamous 'Josh went awol' incident, I was thinking about whether or not I should, could or would do it. I ended up concluding that it wasn't something I was capable of, mostly because I've known people who've lost people that way, and I know how it affects people... Could I do it? I think I could, if I really thought no one was left who gave a shit. And you know, when I was first diagnosed, I didn't like it. I was freaked out because everything was going well, and I was happy... the second time round, I of course wasn't ready for it because things at work were going well, I was loving life, etc... And now, if it were to happen... Well, I wouldn't be so upset.
Fuck sake, I don't even know where I'm going with this post. I'm just ... tired. But I'm also tired of fucking saying that. I don't even know who of you even read anymore, because I know that I'm a twat when it comes to reading yours, and I can't honestly expect you to read mine. Fuck, I'm so self-fucking-possessed that it's sad. I've lost the ability to see beyond my own fucking mind.
I'm supposed to go to NYC to see Mal, a mate of mine from London, before she heads back down south after schools out. My mate Jesse, who I've actually known longer than
laereth , but not actually been mates with during the whole time lives there as well. I met him when I was in year four, so probably when I was 9... He was in with the 'in' crowd and I was the geek with the southern accent that they all made fun of. He wasn't ever so bad, and when I eventually met him again when we were 20, he was very cool and bi. Now he's 'more straight than bi' and 30 and I've never really gotten to know him. So I'm really putting a lot on that night, because I really need to have a fucking good time so I can remember why the fuck I keep trying to live.
My brother never sent my card to me... He's
such a fucking wanker. I'm really bleedin tired of him and the whole fucking thing. My family... I can't ... I don't know how to handle it. Fuck, that's just making it worse. I'm going to bed before I drown myself in tears.