Sleep Junky

Born Slippy
2001-11-11 06:31:45 (UTC)

oct 27/01

I called home earlier today to let my parents know I'm
still alive. They want me to come home and visit. I'm
assuming they're a little freaked that I've been away from
them for so long and need some assurance that they still
have control over me. They likely want to instill fear in
me as well in case I'm not fulfilling my duty to them ("work
hard and succeed so we can brag to all our relatives").
Hmm, they already suspect me of past dabblings with illegal
substances. I wonder how they'd react if they knew about
Ian. Stupid question: "your schoolwork comes first, blah
blah, you shouldn't be thinking of boys at your age, if you
want to do as you please you better start supporting
yourself".
I suppose I should do the honourable and take out a loan
or something. Then I could indulge in all my vices with a
clear conscience, but I'm too lazy. Still if worse came to
worse I'd do it- I guess I'd have to. For now though I
don't tell them anything because I like to keep my personal
life and home life separate. Well, that and fear as well.
It's fear that's driven me and my sisters to become the
best pathological liars in the presence of my parents. It's
a survival tactic we all picked up and perfected in
childhood. Truth is out of the question- I'm sure they'd
rather turn a blind eye than hear what they don't want to
hear.
One of the many drawbacks is that I feel compelled to
expose my true self, vulnerabilities and all, to everyone
else in the world. It's like it's some sort of compensation
for concealing so much of myself for so long. It sucks
because both ways I get burned. For all I try to hide
myself at home my parents still find a way to get to me and
other people, the more cruel ones, can't resist taking a
shot at me because its so easy. God, there must be a happy
medium.
I don't want to think about this anymore- I'm going to
try to do some work now.




Ad: