Rossi (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
deathpixie) wrote2001-03-17 11:15 pm
deathpixie) wrote2001-03-17 11:15 pm
Turn and turn about is fair play
Apologies for the quality of this post - I spent the evening over at my parents' house, and they got me drunk. Giggling at nothing, not making a lot of sense drunk. Perhaps in the morning when I sober up I can edit this. ;)
Mum and Dad have this idea that I don't truly relax, be myself, unless I'm intoxicated. Which is a scary thought. Have I become so constrained, so mindful of what BRM or others might think of me that I have to be drunk before I become myself? Or maybe it's because alcohol plays such a major role in their lives: they accept it if I don't drink, but they can't imagine a social outing that doesn't involve drinking. They respect my choice not to drink when I don't, but when I do, they seem to accept me more. Although tonight's debate about Aboriginal rights wasn't exactly peaceful. ;P
That's what frustrates me about Mum and Dad. They have this attitude that because they didn'tcomplete high school, they don't need to read more deeply into things, that they're not clever enough to criticise the information they receive through the news. Which is ridiculous, because I know they're smart. They also tend to treat me with a mixture of pride and condescension. The pride comes from my education, as does the condecension - they seem to think that because my knowledge comes from books, it has no basis in reality, and so I don't have the perspective to argue about certain topics, such as benefits for Aboriginals. Like I said to them tonight, we exterminated approximately half (and that's a conservatove guess) of their population. I think they're entitled for some kind of compensation for that.
Curse these damn mood swings. One minute I'm almost hyper, the next minute I'm sobbing my eyes out. What the hell is wrong with me?
I feel alone, in a way I haven't felt for a long time. I feel so pathetic for whinging like this, for being so week, but just when I think I'm dealing with things, it hits me like a speeding semi-trailer. I can't help feeling that my last chance has gone, that I'm destined to spend the rest of my life alone. Part of me welcomes that - I'm so tired of living my life for other people - but the other part wants nothing more than to curl in a ball in BRM's arms and stay there forever. It's like having the blankets pulled off you when you're in the midst of a deep and warm sleep - suddenly you're cast out into the cold and expected to carry on as normal.
Oh hell.
I'm not making sense, or rather, I'm making a sense noone wants to find in their inbox. I try so hard to be cheerful and accepting and reasonable, but late at night, when I'm alone, I feel so empty.
Mum and Dad have this idea that I don't truly relax, be myself, unless I'm intoxicated. Which is a scary thought. Have I become so constrained, so mindful of what BRM or others might think of me that I have to be drunk before I become myself? Or maybe it's because alcohol plays such a major role in their lives: they accept it if I don't drink, but they can't imagine a social outing that doesn't involve drinking. They respect my choice not to drink when I don't, but when I do, they seem to accept me more. Although tonight's debate about Aboriginal rights wasn't exactly peaceful. ;P
That's what frustrates me about Mum and Dad. They have this attitude that because they didn'tcomplete high school, they don't need to read more deeply into things, that they're not clever enough to criticise the information they receive through the news. Which is ridiculous, because I know they're smart. They also tend to treat me with a mixture of pride and condescension. The pride comes from my education, as does the condecension - they seem to think that because my knowledge comes from books, it has no basis in reality, and so I don't have the perspective to argue about certain topics, such as benefits for Aboriginals. Like I said to them tonight, we exterminated approximately half (and that's a conservatove guess) of their population. I think they're entitled for some kind of compensation for that.
Curse these damn mood swings. One minute I'm almost hyper, the next minute I'm sobbing my eyes out. What the hell is wrong with me?
I feel alone, in a way I haven't felt for a long time. I feel so pathetic for whinging like this, for being so week, but just when I think I'm dealing with things, it hits me like a speeding semi-trailer. I can't help feeling that my last chance has gone, that I'm destined to spend the rest of my life alone. Part of me welcomes that - I'm so tired of living my life for other people - but the other part wants nothing more than to curl in a ball in BRM's arms and stay there forever. It's like having the blankets pulled off you when you're in the midst of a deep and warm sleep - suddenly you're cast out into the cold and expected to carry on as normal.
Oh hell.
I'm not making sense, or rather, I'm making a sense noone wants to find in their inbox. I try so hard to be cheerful and accepting and reasonable, but late at night, when I'm alone, I feel so empty.