My secret life of the (Australian) teenager involves secret blogging, not getting drunk/high and sleeping around. What have I done wrong?

Mum and Dad were being concerned about me today. And it sucked because I couldn’t explain to them what my problems were, and not just because I had three minutes to get to the bus in time.

They’re worried that I don’t get enough sleep and to be honest, they’re probably right. Sadly.

I spend all my time on the computer, from 4pm to maybe 10 or 11pm, though with a few hours taken out for dinner, a bath and sometimes homework. Not if I can help it though. Doing homework, that is.

And Mother Dearest and I were talking about it this afternoon. Kind of. She said that they both thought I was overwrought and it was because I was too tired. Because a Year 9 kid shouldn’t be overstressed, you know?

I responded by trying to explain that sleep seemed like something one shouldn’t need. I hate sleep, because there’s so much I could be doing instead.

And so of course, she asks what that stuff is. She knows I’m not great at doing my homework on time, after all. And I couldn’t really answer because half of what I do is write this and reblog stuff on tumblr. And I’m not going to admit to that because it’s like it’s not worthy. So I can’t explain that I’m doing something kind of productive, at least. It sucks.

I almost did, at first simply because I was defending myself and about to say “Hey! I write blog posts, that’s not such a terrible thing to be doing!” but I ended up catching myself and saying something more like “Oh…you know. Stuff.”

Then I was contemplating telling her. So that they could know that I wasn’t entirely wasting my time. At least I’m getting typing practice. But I couldn’t, because this site has, I think, 141 views as I write this. Not 141 followers, or even likes, but plain old views. And I’ve had it around four months now. If I was going to be a famoose person, I’d have more than 6 subscribers by now. But I don’t. I’m a failure, just as I expected when I began this. So I can’t admit to it.

And that really sucks.

But I’m just so terrified of criticism that it’s quite likely that I’ll never tell anyone I know in real life about this, but rather just continue my clandestine blogging while my peers get drunk and stuff instead. Really, my parents would be proud. Only they don’t know about it. Damn.

I’m really good at going on and on about the same topic and making the post get three times as long as it needs to be. Did you know that, little blog? I expect so.

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