Posted in Blog

Post-holiday Blues

There are times when you want people to fuck off and leave you alone, and then there are times when you actually want people to take the time out to give a shit.

My mother sent me a birthday card, regardless of my asking her not to contact me because of the stress it causes me. The stress of receiving the card and deciding what to do with it caused the most intense seizure I’ve had in a while and I’ve just spent the whole of my Saturday (a sunny one, I hasten to add) in bed with a post-seizure migraine.

The mother you wish would leave you alone and stop fucking you up more that she has for the past thirty years.

My housemate’s girlfriend thinks that I’m a bitch (her boyfriend actually told me this), due to the way I handled things post-breakup with the ex.

These are the kinds of people you want to fuck off and leave you alone.

The Bends -alt cover art.png

 

Then there are the people who you want to give a shit.

It was my birthday two weeks ago, and my housemates made no effort for it, even though I had gone to the effort to do something for their birthdays earlier in the year.

The friends who either didn’t bother to tell you that they weren’t even coming to your birthday party, or waited for you to remember to ask, only to be told that they had made other plans.

There are the friends who you only have contact with when you contact them first – who know that you’ve been having a shit time and could do with a text every now and then. This includes the ex boyfriend.

These are the kinds of people you actually want to give a shit.

Anthrax

So these are the things that have been consuming my mind space since I returned from Budapest. Having promised myself while away, that upon my return I would no longer give a shit about others and focus on myself, and ONLY myself, my resolve has weakened. In my moments of emo-ness, I wonder if I was built for sadness only: why can’t I stop crying? Why can’t I stop freaking out? Why can’t I be happy for longer than a few hours? In a way, I was built for sadness: I’m a fucked up product of my fucked up parents. Thoughts like these make me wonder why such people would be so cruel to have children of their own in the first place?

Am I Really Sinking This Low

God knows I won’t.

Author:

My body remains on the sidelines watching, while my mind roams around the room, taking in the world around her. I am a wallflower. There could be two reasons for this: It could be due to me being an introvert or just that I am a Cancerian! I’m Cece Alexandra and I am so honoured that you’ve been led to delve into my thoughts here in this blog! I would describe myself as a Wallflower which is why I use words to express my deepest – and sometimes darkest - thoughts. Words have always been my strongest method of expressing myself. Growing up I always wanted to be a writer, however life and circumstances chipped away at my confidence until there was nothing left. Without words, I could no longer express myself. I am also Epileptic. Since being diagnosed, I have realised that my deepest fear is the day I am finally on my deathbed, haunted by the overwhelming regret that I never achieved my God-given potential. This realisation forced me to take a step of faith and put myself out there. Yes it makes me vulnerable, however within the process I not only want to be an inspiration to myself; I want to be an inspiration to other women – to be whatever you want to be. Embrace the fear and doubt and utilise that as the fuel you need to push through! Life is for living to the fullest. Life is for loving, for living true to yourself and to the people around you. Life however, can also be crippling, dark and overwhelming. But you are not alone. This thought alone is what will help you get up from the ground.

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