I am sooooooooo sick of being sick.
It’s been eight days now. Eight. Bloody. Days.
My nose is bleeding because it just can’t take it any more.
I wake up each morning a little bit sicker rather than a little bit better. What’s THAT all about?
The kids have been terribly neglected on their school holidays … Although I get the impression the eldest would happily spend every waking moment parked on the sofa with her iPhone.
We’ve watched a lot of movies. Yesterday’s feature: The Truman Show. The youngest struggled with it a bit, she prefers Jim Carrey as Ace Ventura, much more straight forward.
I found The Truman Show quite tragic: most of the audience thought there was nothing wrong with a man’s whole life being a farce for their entertainment.
I get that horrible moment when you finally realise everything has been a lie, then wonder who was in on it.
Truman didn’t know he was starring in a reality show. I don’t understand people who knowingly agree to be filmed at their most vulnerable moments.
Odd, really, when I write about mine for public consumption.
I wonder why I think that’s different. I suppose it’s because I have control over the process. People in reality shows don’t.
That said, I’ve found myself not wanting to share some of my recent posts on my personal Facebook page. It’s felt like too much information to unleash on people who are just wanting to trawl through their news feeds and see happy snaps of their friends’ latest holiday or puppy.
It makes me wonder if that means the posts themselves – as I’ve sometimes been told by concerned friends – are “too much.”
I hope not, as I’ve … what’s the word? “Enjoyed” doesn’t seem appropriate. But it’s been quite fulfilling to express myself.
Revealing my needs, wants, fears and frustrations isn’t my strength. I’m hopeless at it. I bottle things up and simmer with hidden resentment. I expect people to just know they’ve disappointed or upset me and do something about it without being told.
At one point, I decided it was easier to expect nothing from people because then they couldn’t let me down.
Which is a bit daft really. And it didn’t work out that well for me.
I’ve realised it’s much better to open your heart.
Sure, it might get hurt, but you’re also more open to the world and how lovely people can be.
And more often than not they will be there for you when you need them.
Song of the day: PHD “I won’t let you down”