Wednesday, October 3, 2012

The downfalls of being a pushover coupled with so much pent-up anger.

I'm angry.
I'm mad, flustered, frustrated, irritated, buggered, bugged, pissed off, fuming, furious, enraged and the likes. It's been a long time coming.

Ever since he's gone and shoved his health up his ass again, I've been nothing but angry. I kept quiet all this while, and now that he's back, I'm not fucking shutting up. There are so many days when I wish I could just up and run, from everything. I want none of this - it's all TOO MUCH. As hard as I might try, I will never, and can never be strong enough to deal with all this bullshit strewn around all over the place. Frankly, I don't even want to, but the guilt eats me up too much. Damn my conscience. Damn it to the deepest corner in hell.

I'm also regretting ever having given in to being a pushover. I've let people have their way all the time, and I've always ended up coming last. I'm sick of it. And if I throw a fit, I'm hungry for all the attention in the world - which is wrong, because apparently, I've been at the receiving end of all of it. I've been there for the rest of them, but it seems too much to ask for when it's my turn. All I get is a fucking charade of misfortune, bad luck, and a good helping of "could've, should've, would've".

I've been quiet for too long. I don't want to be anymore. Just this once, I'd like to think about something other than finding ways to look after him, when it isn't even my responsibility at this age. I don't want to think about the consequences and the guilt that follows if I give up on him and just live my life as I should. I don't want to think of alternatives for my dreams and aspirations, just in case. And once, just this once, I'd like to think about how people actually care, without bothering to wonder about whether or not I sound/ look/ seem like a pompous pain in the ass.

Yay for today.

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