When you have nothing to do, time slips through your fingers like sand and your mind is set adrift. I remember sitting on the coach when I was on holiday, looking at the trees and houses flashing by. There's nothing much you can do on a cross-country drive that lasts several hours at a time, except think about everything.
It's toxic the way things that happened months ago still bother me. Ironically, thinking and doing nothing has somehow inadvertently allowed these terrible emotions and thoughts of mine to be dredged up. My Dad told me he's sick of my whining, and I know that. I'm sick of it myself. I try to vanquish these thoughts away but they end up flooding back whenever my Mum says something horrid and hurtful, unleashing all this negativity within me once more.
It's like a spider within my brain, tapping and prodding me occasionally, when the moment counts.
I'm so frightened, and my parents think I'm a disappointment, so what the fuck do I do now?
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