(no subject)
I wasn't sure where to write anything, it's been so long since I've considered Livejournal to be any kind of outlet. I guess I've been so used to bottling everything up ever since when.
Ranted at Soul for a while, listened to him for once, if only I could have learned to do that before - maybe I wouldn't have made such a mess of it.
I guess that's the crux of it, I always feel like it's me. The main ingredient is me. Things just don't work out and I sit there, wondering, pondering, internally debating. Why did I fuck it up, what did I say? What did I do? What didn't I do? What could I have said, what did...
And it's all shit. No matter what happens it's just fucking roulette. Chances were I would have fucked it somehow, somewhat. It's just how good I get at managing the fallout. Words and how I use them. How many people I have to deal with and when. Some times it's alot, sometimes it's a little. Lately I've narrowed it down. It hurt a lot to do that.
I've had a lot of people living with me since I bought my house. I looked at it, with my partner, my best friend, my brother and his girlfriend. A little dysfunctional family. We imagined we got on just fine, but we didn't. So my best friend moved out, my brothers best friend moved in. Then they all moved out, my cousin moved in. I nurtured her, pleaded, prodded and moulded her. She brought her sister, then another one, then back down to one. Then my mother needed to be here, I asked my cousin to leave. You following?
I wasn't. I forgot that I wasn't running a half way house. With leaving for work at 7.30am and getting home at 7pm. I returned - I cooked, washed, cleaned. I tried so hard to help everyone that I forgot about myself.
It never worked out. I can't stop feeling guilty and angry and sad.
But it's no one's fault but my own.
Now I live with my partner and my guilt.
Ranted at Soul for a while, listened to him for once, if only I could have learned to do that before - maybe I wouldn't have made such a mess of it.
I guess that's the crux of it, I always feel like it's me. The main ingredient is me. Things just don't work out and I sit there, wondering, pondering, internally debating. Why did I fuck it up, what did I say? What did I do? What didn't I do? What could I have said, what did...
And it's all shit. No matter what happens it's just fucking roulette. Chances were I would have fucked it somehow, somewhat. It's just how good I get at managing the fallout. Words and how I use them. How many people I have to deal with and when. Some times it's alot, sometimes it's a little. Lately I've narrowed it down. It hurt a lot to do that.
I've had a lot of people living with me since I bought my house. I looked at it, with my partner, my best friend, my brother and his girlfriend. A little dysfunctional family. We imagined we got on just fine, but we didn't. So my best friend moved out, my brothers best friend moved in. Then they all moved out, my cousin moved in. I nurtured her, pleaded, prodded and moulded her. She brought her sister, then another one, then back down to one. Then my mother needed to be here, I asked my cousin to leave. You following?
I wasn't. I forgot that I wasn't running a half way house. With leaving for work at 7.30am and getting home at 7pm. I returned - I cooked, washed, cleaned. I tried so hard to help everyone that I forgot about myself.
It never worked out. I can't stop feeling guilty and angry and sad.
But it's no one's fault but my own.
Now I live with my partner and my guilt.