Pfah....

WOO! I have drunk half of a bottle of scotch tonight. Much needed. I was lucky enough to spend the evening with a friend for a change, and aside from falling asleep twice during me talking he was a welcome distraction from the poop storm currently surrounding me.
In the last 3 nights I have had the police in my house, a very unpleasant situation with a local haggard publicess in which I was assaulted and verbally abused, and had to cope with my dog's seizures.
I am in what one can only describe as a desperate and lonely situation.
My dad has been overbearingly and  slightly condescendingly supportive, but every bit of his support has been extremely welcome. My mother has been nowhere in sight. The last word I had from her dubbed my complaint as an 'exploit', and still refuses to speak to me other than out of the corner of her mouth. Well mum, I'm living in a nasty crappy area full of criminals and drunken wankers who scream at passers by, steal things from pubs, then litter the street with whatever they've kaifed. If I take polite English issue and end up being assaulted, threatened with further violence, and verbally abused without even saying anything then surely not only was I right to take issue, but also deserving of family support. Even if the situation wasn't one you approved of, surely it's not one where your daughter was the criminal. A hug, or a kind word would have been nice. But no. Two nights in and not a boo. Fine.
I was going to write to Bristol Zoo (my favourite place on earth recently) for a junior keeper's post, but not only did I realise I was hopelessly underqualified but also that I would ahve to deal with the cretinous public.
I really am sick of people.
There is no real love in this world.
Every time I believe I am getting a handle on the populace something immensely unpleasant happens and overshadows any minor successes I've had in overcoming my fear of this rancid species.
My father insists I am too liberal in my understanding of the world; believing people are inherently good and all deserving of the same respect. He also maintains that anyone who says boo to a goose in South London (where he is from) would have not only recieved a petrol bomb through their letterbox, but also had their entire family murdered.
My mother would have it that the world is filled with murderers, criminals and gangs that bay for blood at the slightest 'funny look'. Yet she will snap at me if I judge anyone without first acquiring their last three CVs and being a friend of the family for 13 years.
But *I* would have it known that I do not swing to either party.
My own belief is that humans are, modernally, a generally self-centred species, bent on comfort and ease at the cost of any life as long as it isn't their own. I do not view them as potential murderers, but more as victims of the current governmental and media pushing in favour of a thick-headed and ill-educated herd, easily sherpherded into the pens of their choosing. As such, I still fear and loathe. But not for such black and white reasons. I fear the fists of the drunken working class borderline ASBOers. I loathe the Jeremy Kyle watching, beans on toast wizened fag-on mothers. And I long for an existence that is simple, peaceful, and - dare I say it - fun.
I want to be able to step outside my own front door and meet with waving, smiling neighbours. Not loutish tossers howling and calling me a 'fat fucking cunt'.
I want to meet people who have specialised faculties of education... that aren't centred around dreary soap operas and white label sausages.
My mate commented tonight on a recent conversation I had with him online, in which I had expressed a strong desire for a man in my life. I answered him first with confusion, as I didn't remember saying it, and then possible realisation. I think the conversation was about how desperate I am for a strong male to protect me. I want - no, NEED - to be protected, sheltered, nurtured. I want to feed, listen and love. I don't want to have to fight, or shout or create bad feeling.
I have found so much joy both in the past and more recently with caring for children, helping charities, and being a shoulder to cry on. I can't be trusted with being the meat shield of an operation, because I just cry like a sissy and end up looking like a twit.
But living alone I am having to do everything. Alone. And I am seriously not up to it.
I have had enough, I am moving as soon as I am able, but I am terrified that this will be an ongoing saga.
Much as I have tried to keep it hidden, this move was a terrible idea. I started to feel as though I was an adult, when clearly I am not. And, right as I was, I have managed once again to ruin everything by standing up for my legal rights and my own health. My parents must have been correct when they coddled me... perhaps I should go back to that 8x5 bungalow bedroom and live my life in there.