I woke up at 7 am this morning and switched on the computer because I really had the need to write in an entry. And now I've run dry and can't seem to formulate anything. So I am going to do the ten minute free writing thing I learnt from Macaulay. From now.
The sun is shining and I stink and need to take a shower. My nails have grown the longest in a long time. I haven't cut them for two weeks. I feel disgusting and disgusted. There are girls, eleven year olds getting married off to 40 year old men in Afghanistan or little boys in Bangladesh being made to load bricks on their heads or being molested in Pakistan. And here I am, depressed and unwilling to do anything. I saw myself as someone from the outside would and what I saw angered me.
I have no pity on my dad and no wonder I stress him out. I smell and I mope and I have not a smile to share or a thing to say or a thing to do. I disappoint him and don't buy the knee guard.
I try to reach out and then withdraw even quicker. I've had weird dreams about people. Siddiqua wasn't repentant or remorseful about what effect her actions had on me. She didn't care.I love the little birdies and my cat Ginger. I'll have a lovely grey tabby with smoky blue eyes and a wonderful personality. And of course I'll have my Ginger, whom I will hug and kiss and feed and groom and love and he won't shed a single hair on me.
It is the day of Arafah today. As good as Shab -e Qadr. Will I shower today and pray today? Will I ask God for light and for forgiveness and for the connection that I have severed? Or will I go back to sleep and sleep and sleep and not even read?
I write so retardedly sometimes. Carl Rogers, after everything he knew and had done, almost had a breakdown and required a year's counselling himself. So nothing is sacred. Nothing at all is sacred. And people who have depressed parents end up having Dependency or Abandonment or Withdrawal issues and so it is safe to say that the last thing on Earth a child needs is me for a parent.
She told me to volunteer. Is it what I should be doing? How do I know? If I am an INFJ or an INFP or whatever. Just shut up, you tart. You know jack about the world and you know even less about yourself, so you know nothing about God. All you do is stare at the idiot box while your chances go away and your blessings are beaten away by your own hand.
You are angry at relations from whom you should not expect anything from. Bloody great-aunt hasn't rung me in 2 bloody months. They just don't give a DAMN at all. It's crazy. And then they all blame me.
Screw Jung, screw Rogers, screw Freud, screw Eysenck. I could give a damn. Screw Umair screw Ashiya screw everyone. Screw CBT screw psycholanalysis. Maybe I should choose psychosis over neurosis. Makes for an interesting change.
The sun is shining and I stink and need to take a shower. My nails have grown the longest in a long time. I haven't cut them for two weeks. I feel disgusting and disgusted. There are girls, eleven year olds getting married off to 40 year old men in Afghanistan or little boys in Bangladesh being made to load bricks on their heads or being molested in Pakistan. And here I am, depressed and unwilling to do anything. I saw myself as someone from the outside would and what I saw angered me.
I have no pity on my dad and no wonder I stress him out. I smell and I mope and I have not a smile to share or a thing to say or a thing to do. I disappoint him and don't buy the knee guard.
I try to reach out and then withdraw even quicker. I've had weird dreams about people. Siddiqua wasn't repentant or remorseful about what effect her actions had on me. She didn't care.I love the little birdies and my cat Ginger. I'll have a lovely grey tabby with smoky blue eyes and a wonderful personality. And of course I'll have my Ginger, whom I will hug and kiss and feed and groom and love and he won't shed a single hair on me.
It is the day of Arafah today. As good as Shab -e Qadr. Will I shower today and pray today? Will I ask God for light and for forgiveness and for the connection that I have severed? Or will I go back to sleep and sleep and sleep and not even read?
I write so retardedly sometimes. Carl Rogers, after everything he knew and had done, almost had a breakdown and required a year's counselling himself. So nothing is sacred. Nothing at all is sacred. And people who have depressed parents end up having Dependency or Abandonment or Withdrawal issues and so it is safe to say that the last thing on Earth a child needs is me for a parent.
She told me to volunteer. Is it what I should be doing? How do I know? If I am an INFJ or an INFP or whatever. Just shut up, you tart. You know jack about the world and you know even less about yourself, so you know nothing about God. All you do is stare at the idiot box while your chances go away and your blessings are beaten away by your own hand.
You are angry at relations from whom you should not expect anything from. Bloody great-aunt hasn't rung me in 2 bloody months. They just don't give a DAMN at all. It's crazy. And then they all blame me.
Screw Jung, screw Rogers, screw Freud, screw Eysenck. I could give a damn. Screw Umair screw Ashiya screw everyone. Screw CBT screw psycholanalysis. Maybe I should choose psychosis over neurosis. Makes for an interesting change.