Such is the way with my life that everything is my fault and that I am always the bad guy.

Fun, fun, fun.

Damn, and I almost got to go head to head with my stubborn older brother with regards to his busybody wife. That would have been so much fun. I think he'd have gone physical, so what? Smack me around, I'll not stop you, I'll even goad you.

Come on, try and kill me. I don't mind.

Don't you just hate confrontations?

The point... my life, my decisions - right or wrong - still mine, my death if it comes to that. What the bloody hell do they care? So fucking what if they're blood-kin?

I want to be left alone, is that such a fucking bloody concept to understand?!

Leaving me alone means minding their own fucking business and not mine.

Difficult to understand, I know...

So the mother-fucker sister from fucking hell was on the phone with my busybody sister-in-law, and she said to disregard my text message to her and treat my like the child that I was behaving.

Cool, she treats me as a child, I'll treat her as the rumor-monger that she is. To hell if she runs to her big strong husband, who happens to be my more than stubborn brother who's not afraid to get physical, and cries her eyes out saying that I've been abusing her.

Abusing her, hell, she hasn't just seen abuse, she's heaped it on other people.

Bloody fucking hell.

Hey, this works into calming me down, if a bit tiring than scratching myself... Now, cutting... argh, I can't believe I haven't tried that yet. It's supposed to release endorphins when you cut so you can just try to forget the bad and just feel the good. Something about the blood seeping through the wound being the bad stuff that happens so when it flows out of your body, all the bad stuff goes away as well.

I haven't tried yet, but maybe I will in the near future. When I'm not going to be too tempted to push the blade too far in.


"When I bloody well want you to talk about me, I'll tell you what to say and whom to say it to."

A bit extreme to text to her?

Hey, I was PISSED OFF!

And what does she do? She goes and texts the mother-fucker to ask me what I meant. I'm like, what, you don't have the guts to ask me? Am I that scary?

That's a compliment to me.