competition

Emotions.

Sometimes, within my family, there's a sort of competitiveness when it comes to who's the most stressed, depressed, sad, angry etc, etc.

Here's an example;

"I feel like shit, my heads killing me."

"My heads been killing me for the last day and a half, I've got a stomach ache and I've had a shit day at work. I think mine's worse."

Or...

"I feel so down at the moment."

"You're a teenager, you can't feel down. School's easy, it's practically a piss-take. You should try living my life; it's much harder than yours."

So, you get the gist of it. Why do people try to compete like this? Instead of just receiving the smallest amount of sympathy I often just get told to 'consider myself lucky' that I don't live their lives.

Well, here's a fucking notice for you.

I work my butt off day in, day out at school. Not even lunchtimes are my own; I rush round cramming in extra revision sessions, talking to teachers, trying to get ahead of the game. It's a miracle if I manage to get my butt down to the canteen to gulp down a glass of water, let alone something to eat. I work, work, work. You think your life is hard? You think I don't know what work is like? Here's news for you; I do. I've taught little kids german, spent two weeks working in the same place you do, spent 6 straight hours on essays time and time again, worked late into the night to get pieces of art finished so that I don't get my butt whipped, I've even worked during the summer at stables. The only difference between what we do is that you get paid, that's it. School's a bitch, you either come out tops or you get kicked down, and then you're a fail for life. You don't get the grades, no fucker cares. It's your own problem. So I work, I never stop. You then have the cheek to knock me down and say I have loads of time to myself on the computer at night? Well, come and check what I'm up to. Nine times out of ten I'm researching, writing an essay, designing a poster for some random assignment or another. Heaven forbid if I have Facebook open to ask my mates what the geography homework was, or y'know... JUST TO CHAT? Back the fuck off, will you. Don't you dare try and compete with me. I only want the tiniest grain of respect for what I do, or if I'm lucky a smidgen of sympathy. I offer bucket loads of it to you whenever you need it, so why can't I get some slack? Why? I'm not a slave; this permanent grind isn't something you should rub in my face. Grow up, and act your age instead of your fucking shoe size.

Back off.
K x