I’m not sure what I deserved to have such a shitty life. I’m not sure if it’s because I don’t worship a deity, or because of all of my laziness. I don’t know what it is that makes it so I deserve all of this shit. I’m not sure if I’m just being a drama queen, or if it’s warranted that I think this has been the worst year of my life. Maybe life is a give and take kind of thing. So I guess in theory I got to see Daniel which was more than I deserved, so in turn I had to deal with death, stress, etc. all year.
Is it wrong for me to see all of it as unfair? Am I so selfish for feeling like life is unfair to me, when there are people in the world who don’t eat? When there are people in the world with cancer? When there are people in this world without a roof over there head or a meal in their stomach? Of course. I’m a brat for feeling like it’s unfair for me to work three 12 hour days in a row, and then have to come in the next day even though I had planned to have that day off. Of course I’m a brat, because my mom and brother are there all day just the same. And aren’t there people in the world who REALLY work for very little?
Then it must be wrong for me to think it’s unfair that I have been surrounded by death, for at the very least, the last 6 months. My aunt killed herself this past may. No one liked her, but my uncle did. Very much. He adored her. And everyone adores him. 6 weeks later my uncle died, from the same side of the family. The youngest of 5 brothers, dead. Michael Jackson died around the same time, and Farrah Faucett. People kept dying after that (not people I knew, but experiencing death first hand not long before made it touching in all the wrong ways to watch about these people dying. One of my mom’s cousins died shortly after the deaths on my mom’s side of the family. Our family bird, Wilbird died some time later. During these deaths more famous people died, and we all watched on TV about their lives and felt touched as if we knew them. More recently, a few weeks ago Jerry Walsh died. He was a family friend whom I saw just over the summer. Last weekend my baby, Cezzie died.
I always feel targeted when life shits on me. For months, nay, a year, I’ve wanted nothing more than to clean my room and repaint and refurnish so I could live in a livable space apart from the rest of this dumpster. I made a valiant effort over Thanksgiving break to clean my room so I could put new furniture in. I had planned to take the time to get it finished during some of the days of Christmas break. Today was going to be my first day for that. By ‘shitting on me’ I mean that it’s not enough for life to just have one thing thrown at me. Instead, one thing stresses me out and I don’t even have time to recover before something else stresses me out. I’m constantly trying to get over the fact that I don’t really have friends besides Daniel, and maybe Lizzie. And that’s always stressing, but then I have the added stress of my job, and wondering when I’ll see my boyfriend again, and the stress of my gecko getting sick, and the stress of taking her to a vet, and the stress of long hours at work, and the stress of spending money on Christmas, and the stress of living in this house, and the stress of my gecko dying, and the stress of self-loathing from not getting through school, and the stress of wanting to try school again but not having the money, and the stress of back to back long days at work, and the stress of worrying and stressing my boyfriend out, and the stress of not getting to do things I want to do, and the stress of finally having the motivation to do something (ie. clean my room), only to be shot down again by not being able to find the trash bags.
Why me, really?
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