I am feeling rather low at the moment. Normally I just ignore it and think about something else, rather then blab on about it here. But I feel like I have to rip it from my chest to stop the black demon sucking the life from my soul.
Mum and I have been arguing a lot this past week. We usually get on very well, but we have been rude and unforgiving. I will even admit that most of it if not 90% is probably my fault. For being locked in this dark place, trying to find some air. We did have a mild conversation today, she had to agree with me when I said I wasn’t really good for anything right now. I am neither supportive or provide anything useful to them, or anyone really. I am somewhat of a leech, just sucking the rewards from others. I don’t try to do this on purpose I am just so angry and lost at the moment and probably have been for a while.
An added insult is the fact we have mice in the house at the moment. Most likely they came from the holes Dad drilled right through the floor for the TV. I bailed out of my own room, because it didn’t feel clean and slept in another room. I went to get into that bed today (which is up the other end of the hall), pulled back the covers and a mouse was scurying around. It was making a nest in the pillow. The same one I slept on that night before. I know why the cat was running mentally on the bed and sniffing around. I even woke up at one point thinking it was a mouse she was after, but just thought I was being paranoid because of them being in my own room.
I don’t want to kill or harm the mice, I just don’t like having them in my room or the house. It makes me feel unsettled and unclean. I will have to take everything out of my room and clean it individually to get rid of any germs and look for mice if there is any still here. Then try and plug up the giant holes.
Sometimes being an emotional/creative person can be a tough challenge. Like usual I’ll wake up one day and think of some other stupid thing I want or think I can do and smile on the inside, but still have that stupid look on my face. Maybe I should try and get the problem fixed. But half the time I can never talk about the things locked down deep inside. I try, but then think whoever I talk with that they are not really interested and my vocals unimportant. Or my words get twisted up and the meaning of what I am saying gets lost and they just think I am talking about nothing. But, then. Perhaps nothing is everything and I am nothing itself.
I’ll take a rest for a few days, and try to get my head on. I’ve said a few times I wish I was dead and I don’t think I mean that completely. There is indeed some part that wants to live. I just go like a yoyo and I don’t think that is probably healthy. For me or anyone else that has to deal with it.