Horrible

The things that hurt most in no particular order:

She's got her head screwed on, she has

about bee from my mother. And I haven't. Has she? Scatty B. Whose parents can pay for her career, who didn't say things in the tone my mother said them.

You haven't thought about this

And a series of assailants on my dreams that tangle up the fine thread till I can't merge back through it.

Your dad was distraught last night after you said that about the tape

Why does what I think about a bloody tape matter so much, why is he so sensitive about a half-joke, why does he think I'm this complete and utter snob, why am I not allowed to express myself in exactly the same way that he does?

I know you aren't happy. You keep picking your chin.

I am happy. I'm not overflowing with joy but I'm reasonable. I'm anxious because people shit on my plans all the time. Parents shit on my plans all the time, to be more specific. And added to this insult, you're not happy and that is your fault for doing the WRONG DEGREE and your fault and your fault (the implicit statement added by me, I feel it, I feel the waste of money and time and effort and how disappointed they must be in me). And then there's also- you're picking your face. You are becoming ugly.

I hate it when they nag me because I know they are right. I wish they'd just back the hell off and let me have a little area of my life that noone intruded into. Now they're in it I want to prove them wrong by letting other people in who think it's OK- I thought Bee thought it was OK and now I'm not sure. Maybe she thinks I'm as stupid as Mum and Dad do. I hate it when people pity me, and people frequently do. Mum did all of tonight. She pressed her lips into this line and her eyes had a sad look, like they do when she sees a fat or homeless person, both of which I will surely become in her world. I hate it. I hate being a source of worry and disappointment and pity. Why can't I be happy and reasonable? Why did my argument consist of just backing down? And hers just upped the throttle. It wasn't a throttle. It's just because they care, but caring means they're destroying my dreams and making it impossible... to think about acting without thinking about them saying you can't you can't you can't and when people say it I can't say I can. It's not my life. It's theirs. And I want it to be mine.