damn weekend

you know.. that are days where I just can't stand the pain no more. It seems like there never will be an end for sickness around me, in me. My skin is bursting all over the place. It hurts, it itches and I can't avoid to scratch it, then it bleeds.. I can't stand my sisters depression. I can't stand the pressure at work. I can't stand the "now" demandings. All that she cannot stand... how much she asks that I live my life with her, her way. She says she makes an effort to accept my ideas but it's a lie... she can't stand it. Then she bursts.. she blows up on me with her inevitabilities and urgency's.. and I crack like glass! I wanted to focus, but I'm so tiered. I work weekdays, I work weekends, I work nights. I just work has much as I can. And that's so much of an effort that when she diverts me from my goals it feels like if she's cutting me with a knife. Sometimes I wonder if she can ever see outside her little bubble of self. ME Me ME ME. How sad she is, how bad she feels, how the world seems to be falling on her. She now sees a therapist. this therapist is leading her, on a journey through childhood.. then there is the question of dad.. how dad was bad. he drank and he beat mammy.. and he despised us in so many different ways there really is no point in remembering. Everyday I try to forget. Forget the screaming, the fear, the repression, the depression.. I try to forget how he finally vanished.. how the illness took over and in that journey transformed him in something I could never hate. A being so small, so destroyed... so humbled, so afraid him self.

It's like a different world. It's a world I want to let go off and never get back to. Something I don't won't to take with me. All it ever was good for was for me to recognize just how valuable the feeling of peace is. What a privilege it is to be able to do something for my self. And I struggle for it. A path that I believe is right.

I wish I was stronger. That I could it all go through me and not feel a thing. But I can't. I can't stop the fact that I hurt because she's in pain And there's not a thing I could do for her. Well that's a lie.. there would be. The stuff 'bout the house... keeping the house tight.. now that's really out of my list of competences. I can figure out a way to organize any set of data.. but to make things pretty is really not my thing. Fuck!

Then I just don't wanna give in to the pressure and become the person she want's me to be and not who I am. Then we fight! We keep fighting. She has a fuckin way to pick days where I just can't be there... to want me to BE there! TODAY! NOW!

Then she gets really nervous about it. Like a raging dog running around. Then she complains to my mother bout the fact that I do nothing bout my Psoriasis. there's NOTHING! I can do... I've seen what the pills did to her... god forbid if I ever take that shit! so my skin is no longer bleeding but my memory is all fucked, and my defenses are down, my hair falls off... right.. fuck it! no way!

well.. each day you survive this shit not feeling down.. is a day were the sun is born on a stronger human being. And this.. this is the kinda stuff you can't read about. Balancing your emotions.. Keeping focused with all the bombs dropping on ya. There will always be shit coming on ya on the worst times... and you need to be able to take it.

the faster you learn, the better.