Thursday, February 18, 2010
Im not perfect
No one gets to come in
Pull me out from inside
I am folded, and unfolded, and unfolding
Is it any wonder that I am unfolding? Im not perfect nor will i ever be. Most people can live with that fact and I probably could to be fair. But Mum cant and that is increasingly becoming a problem. I am on my best behavior all the time, always trying to make sure I do what it is she wants. But she still finds room to pick fault. Constantly picks at me like an annoying scab, well even scabs when picked will bleed, will scar, will linger.
Went to pick dads car up today, I was asked to drive as I was insured. It took a lot out of me i i am truthful not to mention how hard it is to be able to coordinate driving safely and have a coughing fit.
On the way back I told mum to go in the new car with dad, but she was having none of it im not leaving you on your own and all that crap. Anyway, I forgot that there was a shorter way to my sisters and so I took the wrong turn. About 10 minutes later she told me that I should have gone the shorter way (by that time it wouldnt have been worth turning back) and so she proceeded to lecture me on how much quicker it would have been the other way (It would have saved about 5-7 minutes) then pointed out where we would have come out if I had gone the way she said the moaned a while longer. The second we stepped through my sisters door she highlighted the fact that I took the wrong route even though she knew the right route and how we would have been there sooner if it wasnt for me.
On the way home she lectured me about not having given her the money i owed her, ont having rang the bank to order a new card (Yesh because I can use the phone with no voice) about how the pub had already stopped serving food (no idea how that was my fault) about how she wanted to eat earlier not at bed time, about driving to close to the white lines and about not slowing down for the speed cameras (I was already 10mph under the limit)
After tea she just had a big go at me about how I instructed dad wrong on sending a message and so it was made public not private (and by a go this time i mean with shouting) She said how many firends does he have on facebook and I said i dont know to which she starts yelling that I do know i looked the other day. I tried to yell back at her that I didnt memorize random numbers that have nothing to do with me (but of course the voice failed)
Im being bitter again too. Why do some people get it easy and forgiven for everything and there mistakes dont matter but mine do! Look at Mike for instance. He messed me up good and proper. I went through hell because of him. Shell went through hell because of him, so did the kids. And yet he spent Sunday at Shells having a nice romantic meal cooked for him. He has his own place and loads of money to waste. His mistakes dont count. Yet I made a mistake at 16 and I am still paying for it. I mean lets face it, I will never have a 'normal' life. I doubt I will ever have a relationship, never have a family of my own and spend the majority of my time going from hospital to hospital. Really what is there to fight for. Im not perfect.
I feel exhausted. My throat hurts, my head is banging and my mouth is in agony. Ive been dizzy all day and generally feel rough.
I thikn I may go to bed and curl up nice and early. And the mood I am in, I very much doubt that I will be able to force myself to do my meds, nebs, physio, treatments or anything else for that matter. Im giving up the night. My phone is in the car so i wont even have that. Im giving in before i do damage i may regret.