New life and renewed death

Okay, so yesterday, when I was well into my decision of rotting, at 7 something in the evening, my sister gave birth to her third child, a beautiful baby boy called Gabriel. Go her for her choice in names. She has two arc angels already, Michael and Gabriel.

Mum said to me yesterday "You've been cooped up in your room the last two days, you're worrying me."

Dunno how I feel about that. I mean...she noticed...but only cos she was moody about being on her own for new years day...

She was bitching about the fact that dad only talks to her about WoW... honestly I'm surprised they haven't divorced. But they both see it as we've been married 23 years what's the point in divorcing now... besides which...dad would be absolutely fucked without mum.

He's too dependant on her. I mean she does everything, the bills, the shopping, the rent, all of it. All dad does is go to work, come home, play WoW, repeat.

His brains rotting and he doesn't even care. I don't think he gives a crap what happens, with anything.

Of course, neither of them do the housework, that's my job. Dad never has as far as I remember and mum can't anymore cos of her back.

Not that I'm complaining. I mean, I hate it, I do...but it could be worse, in fact it has been worse. It was shittier when all my sisters were home and Giz didn't clean cos she was fucked in the head, Kay didn't cos she was at Spots to get away from everything here and Kim didn't because she was fucked in the head. Guess who it fell on?

I admit, not all the time. I remember dad buying Kay a pack of biscuits cos she was the only one that day who actually did her job. I was sulking if I remember rightly.

But in the later years everyone automatically assumed I'd do it. Which pissed me off. And now mum and dad automatically assume I'll do it.

Mum at least acknowledges that I clean up for them. Dad doesn't say anything. He never really talks to me. He talks to me now more than he did but it's not like we actually have anything to talk about.

Sometimes I think to myself, he's not my dad, he just happens to be the guy who got my mum pregnant with me. He just happens to live with us.

He hates me because I'm not a boy. I'm the youngest, the last chance he had to have a son...but I had to go and fuck up and come out a girl, didn't I!

And hey, I get it, I swear to GOD, I was supposed to be a boy.

But something went wrong. I'm all wrong.

Ain't life a fucking peach.

Dying slowly is a pain in the arse.