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Change... It's fucking fast. It's fucking cruel.

Posted by anonymous at October 26, 2011
Tags: Health  Juvenile problems  2011 October  Philosophical

Life is so fucking fucked. I am currently a week away from my year twelve exams. Tomorrow is my year twelve muck up day.
I'm losing sight of the point of muck up day. I'm just so exhausted...
So much has happened this week. I just want to sleep for a while, because nothing bad happens when you're asleep, and you then always have a legitimate excuse for not being places and not hearing bad news.
My boyfriend is very sick, and is in hospital. People keep telling me that he'd want me to participate in muck up days, and stupid things of the like. They say that he'd want me to enjoy myself. I can't enjoy myself knowing that he's unwell. Knowing that he's left in suffering, drowning in his own misery, while I am able bodied and out in society.... I don't know what he wants. I think he's just tired and lonely. I hate it when he's sad, it kills me inside. I can't handle it very well. I don't think I'm handling it very well anymore. I'm tired of everything.
Sometimes I over assess situations, such as when he doesn't reply to my text messages. I worry that he hates me, or the medication makes him hate me, sometimes it makes him moody.
I don't know what I'm going to do when I finish school. I have applied for a few courses, at various universities, though I don't know whether I actually want to do them. I don't want to do anything really.
I love my boyfriend very much. It is him who I am finishing school for.
I promised him that I would do well on the exams for him.
I promised him I'd get a good ATAR..
Why did I promise that?
There's no way I can attain a 'good' ATAR, considering the SAC scores that I have been marked with so far.
I am a bad student. I wasn't always.
But I lack motivation, and I am lazy.
Since my boyfriend has gotten sick I have found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything else, and I feel so drained all the time.
There always seem to be complications with the side effects of the medication my boyfriend takes. Last week he had a bad reaction to the drug, and he found himself partially paralyzed. The hospital that he's currently at, and frequently visits, is over two hours away. I have been down to see him twice this week. Everytime I leave him to go home he begs me to come back. It kills me inside, and makes me hate myself.
How can I possibly continue living my life, going to school, doing exams, visiting friends, working, when he's so sick?
How can I justify myself?
Why do people keep pushing me to keep doing these things, when he needs me with him?
I know why. It's a stupid question.
Yet, I find myself wondering constantly.
If he hadn't have gotten sick, life would be perfect.
Ha, that's a stupid thing to say. Nothing's ever perfect. I bet I still would have found something in life to whinge about. Those who continue to search for perfection will never be happy, and live their lives continuously circling the drain of disappointment.
That's why some of the more philosophical sorts claim that you should always 'be happy with what you've got'.
This is a rule I like, and think has great relavence to life.
However, I'm not happy with what I have, or rather, I'm not happy with what HE has. I want him to be happy, but he's not, and sometimes when he looks at me, it even seems as if his eyes are crying out in agony.
I know that may sound stupid, but it's what it seems like. I don't actually know what the look is supposed to represent. I've never asked.
Maybe I should?
He might want me to ask.
I worry that I stress him out. I'm entirely not sure why. I mean, I always make a point of being my most friendly, chirpy self when I am around him.
Still though I worry. I always worry.
I would sacrifice anything for him to be healthy and happy, and I hate that he has to go through this.
But that's life I guess. It's subjective, random, and different for everyone.
The dice was rolled and my boyfriend ended up with snake eyes.
How unfortunate.
How sad.
Too bad.
Fuck you cancer.


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