Christmas is coming down on me like a great big red and green tidal wave. To some degree, I'm terrified. To another, I'm looking forward to it. I like getting people presents. I always try to get people something they want or need.
It's sort of just hitting me now that I'm a senior. One semester to go, and then I'm a real adult in the real world and I get to pay back loans and support my parents.
Don't get me wrong, I love my mum and dad, but they've really dug themselves into a vicious cycle. I'm glad they're helping me through college and that I can get away from all the nasty things going on at home.
There are times I really wish I could talk about these problems, but I always feel bad bringing it up. Usually whenever I feel the need, my friends are already busy coping with their own issues and really don't need me to make things any worse. So. LJ. Next best thing. Another thing that hit me today is how good I am at pretending I'm perfectly okay. I've gotten so good at it, even I believe it, and I'm not too sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. On one hand, I can slog through piles of woe and come out of it pretty much intact. On the other, I know one day it's going to catch up to me and that's going to be the mother of all breakdowns.
I really miss my parents. Really miss them. And I miss the good times. I sometimes dread going home because everything has this feeling of decay around it. My mum is becoming more and more needy and the MS is starting to make her 'good' leg pretty weak. Ziggy's old as the hills and pretty much on death's door. Dad's depressed as all hell about granddad dying and I don't blame him. They keep talking about what they're going to leave for me when they die, and I really wish they wouldn't talk about it as often as they do. I feel like I've trapped myself as the eternal optimist with no way out. Ainsley's always happy. Ainsley's always smiling. Smiling, happy Ainsley, without a care in the world. Go figure.
I think that's part of the reason why I hate it when people seem to compete for unhappiness. When they use their misery as a tool for evoking sympathy and don't listen whenever someone attempts to offer advice. They say things like "How can you lecture me when I'm already suffering?" and all I can think is 'it's easy to be unhappy. It's easy to forget that there are others who get knocked around with all sorts of bad things but still manage to clear life's hurdles and even if you've hit rock bottom, your life goes on. It's easy to say that you're the most unhappy person in the world.' These are things I really wish I could say to my mum but it's hard to get people to listen when they just don't want to hear that there is the slightest possibility they're wrong and that there's a better way. It's part of why I try my best to put on a happy face, even when I feel like I just might explode. I remember to appreciate what I do have; wonderful, talented friends who may be dealing with life crises but I know they'll get through them because they're strong and stubborn. A mother and father who love me and gave me an opportunity of a lifetime. Hair with personality. An uncanny ability to pull through most anything. A future.
Nothing's perfect. I figured that out ages ago. But I really want things to get better. More than anything. Now that I've gotten a lot of what's been swirling around in my head out, I feel like I have a better chance of getting something done.