Despicable me.....

Truth is i have writers block. Truth is, i am no writer atall,i type the way i speak which leaves alot to the imagination, sometimes not. I lead a very curious and some would say interesting life, i agree with the latter. I sit most days but infact i like standing, so this frustrates me to the point of becoming red faced which is actually unusual for me. I could write things in this everyday however i would most probably have world war 3 on my hands if i did. My hands by the way are wrecked, i bite them all the time and constantly get told off about it. I am 26 and my dad still tells me what i should and should not wear. My memory is so bad i fear that people don't believe me when i say, 'no really i have lost my car keys, again'. I say what i am thinking, mostly forgetting that peoples feelings can get hurt and i save what i really should say incase i hurt someones feelings. I have big decisions to make which will affect everything but i am avoiding them like the plague, maybe someone else can decide for me? no, it took around 25 years of experiencing lack of choice so it would be gutless to falter now. I don't know the correct answers to anything though. Ask me something and i will tell you the truth, whether you hear it is up to you. My brain has turned to mush doing repetitive things but without the repetitiveness i feel out of control. I have no energy, yet i burst to do things that need it and get angry when i have to use it. I am indecisive. I see the light but alot of the time it is actually quite dim. A work mate pulled a grey hair from my head last week and i felt nothing, no shame or annoyance or hopelessness. I am not alone but i feel all by myself. I sit and sit but i really want to stand. I have lost faith in people but some people give me hope. There is one rule for me and another for everyone else. I detest self pity. I like beautiful things and make sure everyone else has them. I am not a writer.