And I can’t pretend it’s gone.
Count on me to remember who you are.
It still remains.
This probably comes as a significant shock to a lot of people. It shouldn’t come as a shock to the people who know me personally, but it probably does. Because a few of them seem to have this idea that I am a five year old. I mean, I get it. I’m not the most mentally sound person this side of anywhere. Worry about me if you must. But just know that if there was anything to worry about, it’d be written on my face. I’m a very visually emotional person. I don’t cry a lot. I don’t get angry a lot. But when I do, you know. Why? Because, when I’m not being passive aggressive or so sarcastic you can’t even tell, I’m real. I’m so real. It’s the most obvious thing in the world when I’m feeling something that strong. So, honestly. When I’m fine, I’m fine. I’m damn fine. But that’s not really the point here, is it? What I guess I’m trying to say is, if I don’t tell you that I’m sick, or sad, or angry or depressed, then I’m not. I’m not going to lie to the people that know me about how I’m feeling. Most of the time I’m under a lot of stress, and I get it, I don’t have the best coping mechanism, but I’m dealing with it without that, and it happens to be working quite well. People just need to remember that I’m not a 5 year old girl anymore, I can handle myself. It seemed important for me to get that off my chest because it’s been really bothering me this past few weeks/month or two. I’m stronger than a lot of people give me credit for being, and that offends me. I’m stronger than even I give myself credit for. But I’m the only person who’s allowed to feel negatively about my coping strategy and how I’m holding up under pressure. Because at the end of the day, I’m the only one who has no choice but to deal with it.
Sounds like bear. Bare hands. Bear hands. No hands. Blood on my hands.
I need water really bad, but my waterbottle is in the fridge and I am currently not wearing enough clothing to wander the hallway and make my way to the kitchen. There’s no sound coming from the house at all except for my typing and the engine noises of my laptop, but I’m still paranoid that someone will catch me. Then I’ll be the weird, thirsty, naked girl caught wandering the hallway in her birthday suit because she couldn’t be bothered to put on clothes.
Today has been a day filled with Erin Problems. This instance is no exception.
This morning, I couldn’t decide what to wear with my purple stockings. Erin problem.
Then I put my white coat over my black singlet and the coat fluffed all over the singlet and I spent the day looking like a retard. Erin problem.
I put my hair in a nice braid today, it wasa side braid, and one of the thirds of it was already a braid so it looked cool. Not so much a problem until I realised that I didn’t have a ribbon short enough for the end of the braid that matched my outfit. Erin problem.
One of the bobby pins I used to pin my bangs back was covered in foundation. Erin problem.
Today I went to uni for 8 hours. I had to walk up 5 flights of stairs with a laptop, a ten kilo bag of books and a handbag full of things I didn’t need. Erin problem.
There was something missing from that bag. See. I was studying Cognitive and Biological Psychology today, and that’s a purple subject. Which needs a purple highlighter. But I didn’t bring the purple highlighter. Erin problem.
The bookstore doesn’t sell purple highlighters. Erin problem.
I went to the toilet and cried about this, and then upon exiting, forgot my wallet and had to go back. Erin problem.
The Erin problems seemed to go away for a little while, until such time as I decided to go home.
Upon leaving the library I dropped my phone on the ground, and in an effort to pick it up, almost dropped my laptop on top of it, and had to get my serious Seeker skills on to catch the laptop before it hit the ground and broke into a million pieces, causing my hopes and dreams to follow it on that dark path. Erin problem.
I noticed a stain on my new coat, too. Erin problem.
I have nothing to wear to uni tomorrow because I haven’t washed my clothes in over two weeks. Erin problem.
I have ten dollars to my name until next Tuesday. Erin problem.
I have a quiz to do for Police Courts and Criminal Law. Erin problem.
I actually mainly wrote most of this blog with one person in mind. The person who sort of coined the term ‘Erin Problem’, but I just found out that there’s no real point in posting it.
But I’m going to. I’m just not going to write any more.
Mumma washed my pony this weekend. He’s nice smelling again and isnt covered in my dead skin and dust. He’s blue once more, and not grey. He’s been patched up, and restored to his former glory. My second favourite male in the universe is fit for snuggles once more. I can’t believe how long I’ve had Anakin for now. The EKKA in year 10 was so long ago. 4 years, the longest relationship I’ve had with a male. The longest relationship I’ve had with anything, ever. This little guy has been through so much with me. So many trips to hospital, so many family holidays, sleepovers, moving house twice. He was the only source of comfort I wanted that time I got dumped and consequently failed my HSC. Sometimes I find it best to seek comfort in something that can’t talk, to avoid advice givers and empathisers and those who don’t really care but pretend to anyway because they find other people’s pain enjoyable. People probably think it’s weird that a 19 year old girl still sleeps with a My Little Pony toy, but we don’t care. Most of the time he’s the first thing I see when I wake up from my nightmares or just in the morning, and when I’m alone in Brisbane, it’s the most comforting thing in the universe.
- 2getha 5eva.
What does that button do? I’ve pressed some random formatting option and I don’t know what it does, but it should be awfully fun to find out. My new favourite word appears to be ‘slaughter’, I could slaughter a soft serve, some chocolate cake, spaghetti. I don’t know. I slaughter a lot of things. I could slaughter my ovaries. Also, my mother. I’m sitting in the loungeroom at my parent’s house right now, and my mother, after having made the perfect impression on my boyfriend, has turned around and decided that I am the spawn of Satan once again, and literally just said to me that “Next time you visit, don’t think you’re welcome here.” Love you too, mum. But seriously.
I keep spending all my weekends down here, which is good, I just can’t help feeling guilty because I pay to live in Brisbane, but I’m actually paying them to house my stuff half the time, which must be really annoying for my landlord and house mates.
I went bowling the other night, which is an activity to add to the list of things I do better while intoxicated.lso on this list is cooking, dancing, horizontal tango, tolerating humans, maybe not interacting with them, eating, ummm, there’s a lot of things. But that’s okay.
I’ve spent most of my free time this weekend working on my essay or playing Pandemic2 and killing Madagascar repeatedly. I’m so happy with everything in my life these days. I get it, I was happy before, and spoiler alert, I’m about to get really sappy. I’m aware that it’s been a while since I’ve felt something this intense for another person (in a positive way), but I swear, it’s never felt like this. I’m just. I’d forgotten I could feel like this. I’d forgotten that happiness wasn’t the best it could get. I just feel so complete now, I don’t feel like half a person anymore. It’s so sooky, and I’m going to stop. Wait. No. Just had a cry at the end of Nanny McPhee 2. Shut up. I have a love/hate relationship with Feelings Erin.
Anyway, I had best be off, I have things to write. Things that aren’t this, and pertain to my future.
“Come and let me try our straightener on you!”
Okay.
“Would you like to buy one?”
I already have one.
“It can curl too, see!”
I bought your company’s curler a month ago.
“This curls nicer, I’ll give it to you half price.”
I’m too poor for this!
“You can have another 14 free hair stylings.”
But, I.
“You can’t deny how wonderfully good value this is! Or how well it straightens and curls your hair! Look at that! It doesn’t run off heat, it runs off steam, when your hair is ready, the steam will rise.”
Pretty sure that’s just my hair warning me that it’s about to burst into flames… But whatever works.
“So you’ll take one? Tell me about your boyfriend.”
I never said I had one, how did you know that?
“A pretty girl like you must have a boyfriend.”
Yeah, okay, I’ll buy a straightener.
I am an absolute sucker. I have a serious shopping addiction. I need to stop buying things. I am going to stop buying things.
I’m not going to lie to you, I’ve been sitting here trying to write something of value for like two hours now, but everything just becomes a stream of conscious and it makes no sense and would probably just upset a lot of people so I don’t want to say that. I don’t know what I want to say. I just deleted like a paragraph and a half of things I’ve been meaning to say and just haven’t.
There are a lot of changes in my life that have taken place recently.
I just. My brain isn’t in the right place right now. I think I’ve exhausted myself over the past week, with the four assessments I managed to charge over the course of three days and the weekend I just had. Phew, you probably haven’t had that much fun in your life.
I’ve lost my hair brush and I am starving. I think this might be where I leave this one.
Erin problems.
