Fictional Justice

I just want to say fuck fuck fuck it. I’ve just finished a Jodi Picoult book, and while they are interesting and intruiging, the endings are just about the winning of the court case. I want to know what happened to the girl. Seriously. What’s so hard about wanting to know about that? Because sometimes in life things don’t get fully explained? That’s what I want out of life though, for things to be fully explained. Just the way I like them.

It isn’t too hard to fully explain all the details in a book, nor on paper form for anything. But I suppose in the justice system, things go unexplained. I’d hate to be a lawyer for that reason. The thought of not being told the whole truth isn’t fathomable for me. It’s just the way I am built. Seriously. If you can’t follow the common rules of respect for another, there need be no more respect shared between two people. Maybe that’s another reason why my marriage failed. There was no communication, so there was no truth, no story told. No background. Therefore no respect to be given.

This book didn’t even have a happy ending. After 18 years of friendship between 4 adults and their kids, everything was thrown away. EVERYTHING. I would hope that there was something to grasp on after such an event of a daughter trying to commit suicide. But the boyfriend didn’t try to pull the trigger, it was the girl who did it. But still, I want to know more.

I also know that I’m more frustrated now than I was before I finished the book. The ending is SHIT. Don’t want to buy another fucken book like that, cause I don’t want another disappointing ending that’s going to fail my scrutiny. My high standards. That’s what’s wrong with me, isn’t it? High standards? High expectations?

Things that I can’t control. Will they be the death of me? It’s like this “learning curve” of myself is actually doing my head in. I don’t have any time to think for myself, because there is no time left! Please.... A day to me! Sleep in for a bit. Tidy up the house a bit, and watch a whole movie, uninterrupted. Like hell. Lock the front door, leave the curtains closed, turn off the phone and watch a movie. That’s the answer, but it’s not my answer. I feel like I’m on call 24/7, but just to everyone else? What’s going on with me? It’s it possible to turn off my phone, but then again, there’s a better question to ask... Is it possible for me to have friends? I don’t trust them for long enough. Or is it something else? Back to the “high standards” we go.... :/

I’m upset, because I really wanted this book to end with a “why” too the main character wanting to commit suicide. Was it sexual abuse? Because I think it was, but it doesn’t go into it, and personally, I wish it did. Perverted as that sounds, I feel that that is a justified reason for such a problem to become so catastrophic. Ludicrous.

Counselling starts next week for me. I know that it’s a positive thing, but I’ll have to remember to be real, instead of looking all happy clappy every week. That doesn’t work, and it doesn’t achieve anything. I need someone to know about my daily thought processes, and someone to know that there are things that I find hard to not think, feel and believe on a day to day basis.

I feel like life friggen sucks right now. How will my world ever go on, if there is no solid justice in it?