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Is this thing on?..

 Time sure makes everything one confusing bitch.

Hello and welcome back to "what the shit is she on about now?". It's been god knows how long since I posted here and I haven't a clue how I went down this fossil-unearthing expedition of my old posts. May I ask how the hell hundreds came across my posts, rambling and incoherent? How did you all get here?! I'm embarrassed. 

God, I was pretentious. I do hope I'm a little less so nowadays, after becoming a mum and most of my memory seemingly defragging itself on purpose, without my permission. I'm now 30 as opposed to little me, 16, writing silly reviews of games that feel ancient now(but hey - half life 2 and terraria? Still gems). It's been... Something. A weird journey. I'm still somehow alive, which honestly I'm shocked by, in a non-dramatic way. I was really unbearably depressed way back then. I'm still working on it.

I won't explain how my little lad spawned into the world... I mean, I know you know how, but specifically the logistics of it. Who were you with, all that malarkey, nobody needs that boring story, he's not in our lives (for good reason) any more so fuck it! Well. I ended up meeting someone else, becoming obsessed like I do with anyone remotely interesting, we moved in together sharpish and here we are 8 years later, and my son is 9.

Thank god for being rescued like the wailing princess in a sky tower... My mum was really not making life any easier at the time. She suffered with agoraphobia and alcoholism (do people suffer with alcoholism, or succumb to it?), having a kid so young in that house and my dad going on benders was really awful. She'd promised not to, and did it anyway. The police were called multiple times, screaming, loud music pumping and rooms enveloped heavily in smoke... That's the dismal shit I remember. And a feeling of being trapped, never able to leave.

I didn't want that for him. Ever. So I did a very risky thing, bet it all on my only just-partner, bailed. Packed as much as I'd need for a night or two and camped out at his mums. It's safe to say it was the best decision I ever made, but a conflicted one. It's not easy to choose a near enough stranger over family, and it was not a careful thing to do. But it worked out and I'm very lucky - - he's such a happy boy now, unmarred by madness and drinking rages and all the things I knew that were coming. We have our own place in a lovely area, and he's kept away from what would change him. I hope one day he will understand why.

I apologise for how rambling I am right now, but hey, it's not too late for you to leave. Why are you still here? 

I haven't amounted to much. I try find ways of coping with life, games, books, the simple things that make me happy like beautiful birdsong in the small hours of the morning or my daily cups of tea. But my life feels small, not "on track" as everyone else's seems. I don't want to be married. I dare not bring another child onto this earth, because, well, what do I even have to offer the poor thing? It's complicated. Every option to move forward scares me, so I scramble to try stay the same, root my feet firmly to the ground and say no to change. 

I'm pestered constantly (jokingly, apparently) by my man, "you'll have a better last name!" "we'd make such a cute baby"... And these are real reasons to take such big chances? Seems a bit too much. That's wrong of me surely? After eight years. I'd never wanted to be married and I was always so terrified of making a little person. I'd done one option already and he's nearly in double digits and loves us. But... Should I feel this pressure just because someone else wants these things? That seems wrong too.

Being 30, however does not automatically make me a sensible adult like I'd hoped for years ago. I still do stupid shit. I still lie because I don't want to explain and be open. I am awful at cleaning a flat, maintaining every little thing. I am a certifiable mess. But it's nice to still be here and there's never any way of knowing what the hell will happen in the next moment. And that random element of life may be what turns a shit sandwich into a... Not shit sandwich. 

I probably will never update this again. Or maybe I will, just to have somewhere to be a crazy bitch and not feel bad about it. As long as I'm anonymous, I can share a thought or two. But if I never come back, I hope whoever reads this knows if you feel you're not doing well at being an adult or a person, remember we're all winging it. I've asked so many people older than myself, and they have no clue either. Go figure. Peace, be yourself, do the things, and know you're a badass for even existing. Xo

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