blustocking | when teh Jill is unhappy, the world suffers

Not really, just those in the immediate vicinity. Okay, maybe just the people I live with. I'm hoping that by writing this out, I'll purge the nastiness from my headmeats. I've been an angsty, annnoy(ed/ing) piece of shit to my Mother this week. Aside from her inherent nagging and INABILITY TO RESPECT MY PRIVACY, she does mean well and she does seem lonely/wants to talk to me. But no, I'm unhappy and unable to step outside of myself. I know this is happening, yet I can't stop it. I'm afraid that if I open up, it won't stop coming. I'm reluctant because I don't like to whine. I do it, on occasion, but I don't like it. So I sleep. I sleep to escape. I did it when I lived with Ryan, I'm doing it now. There were times that I'd hear him coming home and rush into the bedroom to pretend I was asleep. But then again, I didn't really love him anymore and was trying to find a way out. He didn't make that easy. And then again, I don't bash my head on doorjambs just to make someone shut up. That, was a "special case." Fuck you, it worked. I'm beginning to think I'm not as stable as I like to think. But doesn't everyone think that. I'm not special in this regard, just annoyed and decidedly unhappy, angry even. I need my own space. I've always needed my own space. I can't innocently walk to the kitchen for water, mulling over some, of what I feel, are serious issues, to be bothered with idle chit-chat or inane questions. God, I'm a bastard. I feel for anyone that loves me enough to live with me.
I'm so sick of my inconsistency.