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end of the day, I've changed since then
Mar. 31st, 2010 05:10 pmIt's started.
Frustrated as fuck being home. My tongue is heavy with insults, my shoulders are tense with strain, my skin is itching with frustration.
This is not my home anymore. I knew this within a week of being home over the summer. I was only home for 11 days at Christmas but I felt it then too. That period was easier to cope with because there was Christmas and my birthday and people to see and gifts to be bought.
Being home now is like being forced back into a cage or into an outfit, shoes that you disgarded years ago because it wasn't you anymore, it didn't fit right, the shoes made your feet bleed.
I have no job here anymore, therefore the McDonalds crew barely remember my existence. My Jules is halfway around the world and she allowed me to breathe a bit easier because we both come back for the same reasons. I have few people here I have any desire to go out and see. I was never really attached to home when I was here, I had no circle or chains.
Dave is busy and we've not been much in contact but what could I say? I feel like crying down the phone with my frustration. This place isn't my life anymore. I love my family, I have to remember that, but they drive me mad. And they are my only contact here. (I do count Libby and June and Jenni as points of contact). Dave admitted he wouldn't spend 2 weeks at home. And maybe this is the last time I'll do this.
Next week will surely be better. There is the CAPAA scheme on for 3 days of the week, which will lead to more social contact and keeping my head busy. Then I have dad's birthday on the 12th and then Leeds on the 14th. But that's 14 days away from now. 14 days feels like it will drive me out of my skin screaming. It could be that I'm oversensitive and prickly because of the time of month.
Maybe I'll ask Dave to ring me tonight, a touchstone. But he shouldn't have to deal with my crazy. I've only been away 4 days.
Fuck.
This mood also brought to you by the news that if I want my lovely Creative Zen to work again, I have to fork out £231 because it's out of warranty but it wasn't when it broke. fucking idiot.
Frustrated as fuck being home. My tongue is heavy with insults, my shoulders are tense with strain, my skin is itching with frustration.
This is not my home anymore. I knew this within a week of being home over the summer. I was only home for 11 days at Christmas but I felt it then too. That period was easier to cope with because there was Christmas and my birthday and people to see and gifts to be bought.
Being home now is like being forced back into a cage or into an outfit, shoes that you disgarded years ago because it wasn't you anymore, it didn't fit right, the shoes made your feet bleed.
I have no job here anymore, therefore the McDonalds crew barely remember my existence. My Jules is halfway around the world and she allowed me to breathe a bit easier because we both come back for the same reasons. I have few people here I have any desire to go out and see. I was never really attached to home when I was here, I had no circle or chains.
Dave is busy and we've not been much in contact but what could I say? I feel like crying down the phone with my frustration. This place isn't my life anymore. I love my family, I have to remember that, but they drive me mad. And they are my only contact here. (I do count Libby and June and Jenni as points of contact). Dave admitted he wouldn't spend 2 weeks at home. And maybe this is the last time I'll do this.
Next week will surely be better. There is the CAPAA scheme on for 3 days of the week, which will lead to more social contact and keeping my head busy. Then I have dad's birthday on the 12th and then Leeds on the 14th. But that's 14 days away from now. 14 days feels like it will drive me out of my skin screaming. It could be that I'm oversensitive and prickly because of the time of month.
Maybe I'll ask Dave to ring me tonight, a touchstone. But he shouldn't have to deal with my crazy. I've only been away 4 days.
Fuck.
This mood also brought to you by the news that if I want my lovely Creative Zen to work again, I have to fork out £231 because it's out of warranty but it wasn't when it broke. fucking idiot.
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