Don't try to fix me I'm not broken, hello!

I'm trying to keep smiling and happy and all that other festive shit. Really, I am.
Just feels like so much pressure. Don't be at all bothered by that horrible dream, just get on with the day. Clean up, eat, breathe, wash, work. Do everything that needs done.
Come about 4pm it's like everything just slows down and there's nothing left to do.
There's a card for my grandad outside my room for my brother and I to sign. Dad wants us both to walk down and give it to him. I don't have a problem with signing it, but I'm not going to that house. I have enough nightmares about all that as it is. The less I think about it, the better it is for everyone. Of course my brother's the golden boy and it's my fault we haven't signed and delivered it yet. Just like it's my fault he puts things in the wrong place when emptying the dishwasher and leaves his cups lying around. It's almost like they seriously think he can't do anything wrong.
At least I've DONE something this week. I've cleared up, done some design work for college, had my driving lesson, been baking, going to the doctor's tomorrow. My brother's spent the week in his room on his laptop. I don't think he's left the house since Sunday. But I'm the lazy one, of course.

It's also apparently a mistake to tell my parents I'm pro choice because they keep trying to change my mind. Calling it murder. Just because I'm pro choice doesn't mean I agree with abortion. I just think everyone should have the choice to do what they want to do, and if they can live with that on their conscience then good for them. It's not my right to interfere with their life. Yet my parents don't want me to believe that, dad's printed off a poem about it by Spike Milligan. Told him I'd read that if he read the Da Vinci Code. Resounding no. Of course.

I love my parents, don't get me wrong. I'm just sick of them trying to change my beliefs and blaming me for everything. My brother does exist and he does make mistakes too. It'd help if they noticed that. Specifically dad.
But oh well.
I'll go write in my diary about my dream since it's probably inappropriate for this.

Early bed and staying in my room for the rest of the night, K? K.