The First Part

Its late, and surprisingly quiet for a Saturday night , even more so for a council estate. I suppose you write your life story when you're in you sixty's or seventy's? But surely it's possible to have lived so much way before then? To have experienced so much, grown up much to quickly and to have gained more life experience in twenty two short years than fifty,sixty,seventy?
I don't know if anyone will ever read this, but as I sit here, I feel I have no other choice than to write.
I'm twenty two, I'm married, and I am a liar. I lie constantly every day, to everyone I meet. To the outside world I'm Kim, the girl who married her childhood sweetheart, the girl who works and studies hard. The girl who is confident, a good friend, loyal, reliable. It's all crap.
In truth, there is not one thing that I have ever done in my life without ulterior motive, or to get things to go my way. Worse than all of this, I can't seem to help it. I don't know who I am, because I spend my whole life trying to be who other people want me to be. To my husband, I am the tidy, loves cooking, happy to entertain housewife, to my dad I am the over-achieving daughter, to my brother I am the mature older sibling, to my friends I am the  loyal, respectable friend who never bitches and to my colleagues, I am the organised hardworking quiet girl.
Its all crap!
My husband should be aware that I hate cooking, I only do it to 1) Impress dinner guests,  2) Please him. Give me a takeaway or a microwave meal any day. I hate cleaning, and if allowed I would live in a complete shithole. I am not mild mannered, I have opinions and I think that 95% of what comes out of his mouth is utter, utter horse crap! His arguments don't make sense and his views on the world are both warped and out dated.
My Dad may be disappointed to know that I didn't finish high school, I dropped out in my last year. Not because of ability, or bullying or because I wanted to venture out into the real world. Simply because I am the laziest person you are ever likely to meet. I couldn't be bothered to go to school, I didn't care about my future and I thought that getting drunk was a much more sensible way to spend my days. I  lied about GCSE'S, I don't even have one! I lied about studying my AAT, (that's an accounting NVQ) I told people that the AAT was much to simple for me, and that it wasn't interesting. In truth, it just bored the f*ck out of me. So I started my ACCA (another accounts qualification) and I have six books on the subject sitting next to me this very second, that I have yet to open.
My brother thinks I am mature, and perhaps I am a little. He should know that I only nag him because I think that its what I am supposed to do. I actually don't care if he cheats on his girlfriend (which he does regularly) I don't care if he occasionally does drugs, I don't give a damn if he spends his weekends drinking and as far as I am concerned, he was to young to have a kid, and as nice as his daughter is, she was a total mistake - or more likely his girlfriends way of trapping him.
My friends should know that I am hear to listen to there problems, but only to gloat that their lives suck as much as mine. I don't care that they are having hard times, I really couldn't give a damn that "so and so" has cheated on them, or hasn't called. Suck it up bitches, its life and its not going to get any easier/better.
Lastly, my colleagues think I am hard working. I am not.
I work maybe two out of eight hours a day, the rest of the time my mind is wondering, or I am on the internet. I don't care about my job, and the only reason I am there is because I need the money to pay off my (ever increasing) debt. - I shop when I'm depressed.
Oh, and I clearly lied on my CV.
So I am a phoney, a fake, a liar . . .
The thing is, I am aware of this. I know that I am a bad person, I know that I am manipulative, but I cant help it. I am constantly thinking of ways to please people, to make them happy and to do things out of the goodness of my heart, but I just cant seem to.
Does any of this make sense to anyone?
Shall I write more??

K.