The Party
Posted on 2003-08-15
I've been listening to the music blaring through the walls for the last two hours, and with each passing minute I want to shove my head further and further under my pillows in the hope that they will muffle the sound of drunken laughter and good times.
I was invited to the party, so was Mum, but I don't feel much like celebrating so she went on her own. Besides, my dsyfunctional body probably wouldn't have been able to cope with the cheese sticks, cocktail sausages, loud music and stale cigarette smoke.
What is it with me??? I complain that I'm lonely, yet when I have the opportunity to go out for a change I turn it down. What is it I'm so afraid of??? Am I really that scared of being happy, or am I simply worried that over exertion will make me slide even further into bad health???, and when will I prepared to take that chance???
The thought of being in a room surrounded by people enjoying themselves fills me with terror, but I think it's because of the memories that it brings back, rather than the fact that I don't want to be around others. Then again I find I panic in crowds no matter where I am so that conclusion seems a little illogical as well.
Seeing people dancing, drinking and having fun reminds me of the parties and clubs that I used to go to not so long ago. Sitting in the corner on my own only highlights the fact that I'm not that person any more. I've lost every iota of self confidence I once had, and I'm not sure how to begin getting it back again.
I know I've said these words in a hundred different ways here in this diary, but I can't help the way I feel. Many of the people I've met with the same illness as me became sick when they were a small child or a teenager and therefore they haven't enjoyed half the things in life that I have been fortunate enough to, but even that small comfort doesn't stop me from wanting more than this.
Excuse me, I need to find some more pillows to bury myself under.