12/091
I know, I've already done my 2 entries for this week. But guess what? I feel like doing another one!2
My therapist would be so proud.3
Life sucks. And if you are reading this Jennifer, I am not suicidal so don't go committing me or telling my parents that I need to be on medication, because we both know that's a fucking lie. Besides, if you DID do, I would get very very angry, because that would mean that you read my diary. And if I remember correctly, you said you wouldn't do that. So if you really are trustworthy, this whole paragraph was basically a waste of words.4
I wonder if my father is bipolar. His mood changes so suddenly and so dramatically. It really is a scary thing. He can be in a fine mood one moment, and then the next he is screaming at everyone. I love him so much, I really do. But . . . I don't know. I just don't know anymore. I hate him sometimes, but I don't want to hate him. And when I DO want to hate him, I can't bring myself to it. Sometimes his anger is strong enough to make me nauseous. Sometimes his love is strong enough to make me cry. And sometimes, his insults are strong enough to kill a part of me. And because of that, there is an abundance of dead personality building up inside my body. He speaks to me as if I am his property, not his child. He treats my mother as if she was a slave, an indentured servant, not his wife. He isn't the person I want him to be. Not even close. But he's there, and he's my father. I must love him the way a daughter is supposed to love her father.5
It would be so much easier for everyone to love me if I could make them all happy. I want so bad to be perfect. I am never good enough for everyone. Every single person I know has some expectation of me that is just impossible for me to accomplish. My father wants me to be a musician. My mother wants me to be a genius. My grandmother wants me to be a Christian. My other grandmother wants me to be an artist. My godfather wants me to be a poet. My friends want me to be an individual. My friends want me to be clean. My friends want me to be smart. My friends want me to be talented. My friends want me to be a leader. My friends want me to get high. My friends want me to stay sane. My friends want me to stop hurting myself. How the fuck am I supposed to keep up with all these ridiculous demands at once?!?!?! Listen people, I am ONE PERSON. I can't do everything you want me to do! Some of these expectations actually contradict each other!6
Sometimes I think life would be much easier if nobody wanted anything from each other. 7
This is Elphie, signing off.8
Author notes
Be sure to go back and read the first two entries:
12/07: allpoetry.com/Story/1680175
12/08: allpoetry.com/Story/1681981
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Comments
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My father is bipolar. He was diagnosed sometime around when I was born, but I didn't find out until about seventh grade, after he'd ran away, been arrested, sent to a mental institution, etc. My dad scares me sometimes too, but I love him so much that I try so hard to forget about how much he's hurt evey one and focus on who he is and what he's doing now. I see him about thrice or four times per year now. I haven't seen him since July, I should see him sometime next week, but you never know. These things change. I really miss him though.
"Sometimes I think life would be much easier if nobody wanted anything from each other." So do I.
This isn't my diary, and I'm rambling, so I'm going to stop now.
Edited on Dec 10 because ''.
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