The meaning of...you call this life?

I'm back home at last. I thought I'd never get here. But now I'm here I have to wait ages till I get back to Cork. Well, ten days anyway. So much has happened in the meantime I don't know where to even start. I'm so confused and mixed up over many things, it's all a big jumble of stuff just bursting to get out but I'm trying my hardest to keep it in.

So my mum is in hospital waiting for surgery on what may or may not be cancer, either way it's surgery and that scares me a lot. I can't lose my mum. If I lose my mum, I lose everything. I'm praying every day that she will be ok but even my prayers are half hearted because I'm losing my faith. I'm convinced that I'm one of those people who just will never be truly happy because every time things start going well something bad happens and right now there is this one thing that I really really want that I think will make me very happy but I feel like if my mum is ok, then I don't get it, or if I get it, then I'm going to lose my mum. I don't think I'm allowed have both. It's unfair and it makes me angry but I truly believe that it's my lot, that that's how it's always going to be. I can be a little bit happy here and there, but real happiness for a prolonged period of time? No. Never. Not going to happen.

The meaning of life through my eyes? It's hard. It sucks. Once you accept that and get over it, you should be fine. But that's easier said than done, isn't it?