I have slowly noticed that my blog is not me, its a number of pictures that i have found and loved, and thought that the world needs to see them too. So here is my first honest ‘diary entry’. If you hate it or find it boring, then leave, click the back button or simply the X in the corner of the screen and forget you ever read any of this.
So simply to start, I’m a very loved individual who has been lucky enough to live a very privallaged life. My parents are still together and even though they have thier off days, they are still madly in love. My dad works all over Africa building airports that connect far off countries with our beautiful continent. My mom is a teacher that has always taught at the schools ive attended. In a way that was a blessing and a curse, no guy wants to date a girl whose mom teavhers them, as well as there never being any oppertunity to be ‘bad’. Mostly though I loved school, i was good at it, in my life there hasnt been much ive been good at, so to have succeeded at school the way i did was a blessing.
I had always wished i was musical, playing guitar was sexy, and for a girl who wasnt stick thin and magazine cover beautiful, i was aiming for all the sexy I could get. Sadly god had other plans, i was never going to lead a band and play beautiful riffs, at best i was able to imitate a cat being killed painfully. Luckily i was blessed with best friends who are musically amazing and a best firend that can make life seem like a magazine even if i dont look like someone who shoulf be there.
This is not a pity party and i dont want it to appear that i have no self confidence, cause to be honest Ive had way more since starting therapy. I go to therapy as a way of dealing with an anxiety disorder that I have. It seems like the most ridiculous thing to panic about not sleeping, when ive been asleep, but who am i to question god and his plans.
I live with my mom and occassionally my dad when he’s here, my brother and his girlfriend and sadle my drunkard of an uncle. Since i was born my gran had been living with us, sadly last week she passed away. We didnt get on nearly as well as i would have liked, and fought constantly. SInce her death ive bee battling with the most awful feelings of guilt over how i treated her and in turn how we treated each other. I havent cried since the funeral and am constantly fighting the feeling to punch something. Is this simply misplaced guilt or something worse. Ever since one of my close friends was admitted to rehab, ive been wondering whether i should be there myself. Am i crazy enough to need to go there, or simply wishing i was.