Rambles09:01 Nov 11 2009
Times Read: 822
Well it’s been a while since I wrote in here, and since I have no other avenue available for me to vent through, I thought hey, why not write in my journal. That’s what it’s here for.
Three things have turned the start of this month into a spiralling hell of annoyance, confusion and sadness. Work, personal life and memories. The combination of the 3 has kicked my ass so far.
People are pissing me off at my place of employment, I’m sick of it. Sick of the constant bullshit that keeps floating around day after day. You try to help people out, only to have them turn around and fuck you over. It’s annoying and I’m tired of being nice to people who choose to take advantage of it. I don’t work my ass off working 2 jobs to be fucked over by lazy shits who haven’t worked an honest day in their pathetic lives.
As for my personal life, well, I’m not even sure where that is right now. For all I know, it could be on Pluto while I’m still on Mars, it’s that messed up.
I’ve been feeling like a bit of an unwanted distraction/annoyance as of late. With all the things going on with him right now, I have this fear that my part in the bubble that is his world is something he could really do without right now.
He’s starting afresh with certain things in his and I’m certain that sooner or later, he and I will be one of those parts he’s thinking of leaving behind in order to start anew.
Some people may say “Just ask him”, I have. I’ve been given the same generic answer time and time again “No baby, never”.
Somehow I’m not that convinced, but time will tell I guess.
Now to the part that’s really been messing me up.
I’m 24. 20 years ago on November 21st, my Great Grandmother died. She was everything to me. My best friend, my playmate, my Nan.
A part from my Father, she was the only one who loved me and believed that the stars shone from my eyes. What you have to understand that my Mother’s family all worshipped my twin brother, he was the first born Grandson and older than me blah blah blah. All of them except for my Nanny. I loved that woman.
I always remember the day the ambulance came to her house to take her to hospital. I waved to her from the driveway, thinking she’d be back later. I waited for her all night in her chair. Long story short, she died a few days later. I don’t remember much about that night, Dad said I was the last person to talk to her, small comfort I guess.
No one told me what death was, they only said she was resting, so being the innocent 4 year old that I was, I thought resting meant taking a nap. I was confused when I saw them lower her coffin into the ground, I didn’t understand. When they finally told me she wasn’t coming back, it broke something inside of me that I never got back. My Mother’s family have never been what you’d call amazing towards me, and as I grew up, I clung to what I had left of my Nanny as if it was the only way I could get through this life. Just knowing how she loved me made the pain go away but made the tears come again.
It’s been that way for 20 years, when I’ve been down and near the bottom, I’ve clung to what I have left, memories, possessions and so on, then the fear of forgetting her would take me and I’d be that 4 year old all over again. It may sound stupid, I mean I’m 24 and still hung up over losing someone so long ago. But when that person was the Sun to you and is one of the only things that can help you smile when you truly need it, then I guess it would be hard to let go. I can’t let go. I’m too afraid of losing her all over again by forgetting the smallest things. I miss her.
Sorry, I’ve rambled on long enough
Goodnight to All :)
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