stripped bare

Who is responsible?

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I am knackered, okay? I dread going to bed because I know I have to wake up the next morning. I’m doing all I can, to the best of my abilities, so don’t you tell me how I should be doing ‘MY’ work. Just make sure you do yours, and I’ll be more than grateful. Everyday, I face all sorts of uncertainties, I have to stay calm and focused when things go wrong, I have to think logically because there’s no-one around I can turn to, I have to solve problems that I don’t even understand, I have to put on a facade and entertain people I don’t even like looking at. All these responsibilities I have to bear. Responsibilities. Are they mine to begin with? I asked for a favour, but I got responsibilities instead. I think all my life the notion of responsibility has been undermined. Throughout the school years, my report card never failed to consist of that word. Conscientious and Responsible. I’ve been a monitress, a group leader, been sent for dozens of leadership training retreats. Just because I believe there’s a need to do things properly, just because I’ve got too much pride to do things sloppily, I burden myself with so much work etics I should be a Protestant. But does anyone know that I hate responsibilites as much as everyone else, especially when they’re someone else’s? I grit my teeth, I clench my fists, I break my nails, I forsake studying for exams, I give up precious time, I become emotional, I lose sleep – All because if I don’t be responsible, who will?


Written by smudgi3

May 5, 2006, Friday at 23:26

Posted in Dear Diary, Insanity

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