55 minutes away from my 35th birthday and I feel miserable. On paper and to everyone else, I should be happy. Married, two kids, job, car, yet I'm riddled with anxiety every day. I really don't care about birthdays and kinda wish there was minimal fuss.
Depressed and really frustrated. Struggling to find the motivation to keep going. Wishing my life had turned out differently in many ways.
Due to my mum's recent health issues, I've been completely neglecting myself, as far as my own well-being goes, just to make sure she's ok. And I'm absolutely knackered and struggling to cope, but I know how the argument will go if I even say that. I'm in the wrong for speaking up, as always.
Well... things don't seem to be getting any better. That's nearly month now.
I'm at my wit's end with everything that's going on. My advice falls on deaf ears, as it always does. But then I don't know how yer supposed to help someone who refuses to help themselves. I also don't see the point in that — does that make me a bad person? I've been told it does, apparently.
Then again, what I don't know? I mean, my oldest sister went in the huff with me today. All because I never had a complimentary thing to say about the fact she decided to dye her hair pink. Like I supposed to be impressed or care.
Guess that's how it is. Having grown up constantly hearing disparaging words said about you, and other people who just so happen to be the same gender as you? On the spot compliments don't come to mind as easily as the mean-spirited insults.