Miserable Monday

It seems stupid coming from me but I can’t bear it when you mock me. I know I’m quite dim compared to your clever friends but you don’t have to use me quite like that. When you patronise me I die a little. I can’t respond anymore, I just don’t know what to say.

I do not reply to your texts because they’re all always capitalised. I dislike being shouted at as a means of communication and your inability to use your mobile correctly is pathetic and, I feel, deliberately obtuse. You are only my age and will not admit that it’s laziness that makes you do it.

I am foolish and I know it but I don’t understand why everyone has to make it so obvious that they think I’m a fool. What is gained from this? Does it really make you feel better?

I really need something to keep the anxiety at bay today. I think it’s a combination of this ridiculous constant tiredness that starts to make me paranoid and a bit too much alcohol last night. I feel lonely today and that’s something I almost never do. And there’s no-one to hug me and pet me and tell me that it’ll be okay. That’s my fault too, I’m sure.