Monday 26 September 2011

You can choose your friends.

But you sure as hell can't choose your family.

Do you ever get the feeling you are the odd one out?

The one everyone looks down on? That they want to see fail?

I feel like this all the freaking time.

I'm one of the "little" grandkids. There were five, then a gap, then four more all together (including me). So I've always had big cousins looking down at me as the kid.

I'm 27 now, and if my cousins (even the ones my age) deign to speak to me, it sounds like they are talking to a five year old.

Like I couldn't hold an adult conversation.

Like I can't look after myself, and they all need to feel sorry for me.

WTF?

I don't have a mental illness, but I suffer from one.

I don't speak much about my sister... you will generally find her fleetingly referred to as "The Bitch". We, obviously, don't have a good relationship.

A good part of this is because growing up with her was torture, from as early as I can remember. And despite so much effort to be heard, my parents were unable to get her diagnosed. She was given a diagnosis by a doctor only a few years ago, and even then nothing has really been done.

I have read countless books and information about mental illness. I have studied "Borderline Personality Disorder" until my eyes cross. I know the effect she has had on me, although my parents don't admit it, let alone care.

It makes some of it easier to understand, but it doesn't make it any easier to live with. Especially when her behaviour is one part illness, nine parts calculated because she knows she gets away with it becaue she has an illness.

Because she has an illness. She can't help it. She doesn't understand. Bull-fucking-shit.

It driving me wild when my family interact with me the way they do with her - especially my parents. It's so freaking obvious.

When my mum does it to me I generally pack up the kids and leave within one minute. 60 seconds. I am not taking that crap from anyone. The person whose childhood was stolen by this illness, treated like I am just like her.

Today, mum scraped the bottom of the barrel.

I have been trying to organise a trip with her. For months now. I wanted to see the White Wedding Dress exhibition, so did she, so I suggested we go together and spend two days shopping. Away from all the stress of home. To say thankyou for all she does for me. To do something for her, something selfish and fun. My treat.

A week out from our intended time to go, she was still umming and ahhing about when we could go because this person wanted to come, and that one, and they worked on these days... and she worked those... and she had extra shifts... and I was working....

Then she insisted it wouldn't work and we wouldn't go, because it just wouldn't fit. I was pretty disappointed, because I had intended this trip to be for us.

Today she told me she was booking her accomodation for her trip to see the exhibition. With her friend. Her selfish friend who makes no effort whatsoever and is not above booking mum up for a "trip to the zoo" which is code for mum driving her to the city so she doesn't have to pay for the 800km round trip.

"I thought we weren't going?"

"Well I decided I really wanted to see it and this is the only time it fits."

"Fits with who?"

"My friend and I."

"Remember you are looking after Tiger while I work my school holiday shifts?"

"Well I'm going on Tuesday so you will have to find someone else."

"Oh okay, fine."

"I'm sick of worrying about other people, so I decided I was going because I really wanted to see it."

"Yeah mum, so did I."

Then she threw me the most unbelievable sorry I've ever heard.

I told her Frog had woken up and I had to go.

And then I curled up in the corner and sobbed my heart out for the next twenty minutes.

I know why she did it, I could hear it in her voice. It was almost triumph.

Revenge.

Because we are leaving soon.

Because she's stuck in this shithole making no effort to escape and by some insane twist of logic, thinks I am "abandoning her" and that if she has to suffer living in this torturous hell, I automatically have to as well. How dare I decide to live somewhere else? How dare I live my own damn life.

Your parents are supposed to be there for you to turn to, to share with, to laugh with.

Mine just spend their life making me feel shit for making my own decisions, doing the right thing by my kids and my family. Making a future for myself.

Kicking me in the guts.

And I'm hurting all the more because I love my family so damn much.

There are so few of them and I cherish every day they are part of my life.

But all they do is kick me down.

When is enough enough?

For me, today came close.

I was ready to pack my bags and leave tomorrow. And never come back.

I still am.

What the hell do you do when your own family doesn't want you?

When you love and give all you can, but you get hurt in return?

Why do I deserve this?

What did I do?

I wish someone would fucking tell me.

PS - I didn't mean for today's post to be all emo and shit.... but I'm still crying... normal programming will resume tomorrow.

2 comments:

  1. I can so relate to this.

    I havent spoken to my mother for years.

    Hang in there.

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  2. This really kicks because my mum and dad are all I've ever had, so it's making it tough.

    I know it's punishment, which kicks hard, why would you punish your child for trying to go forward?

    Thanks for the "hang in there" it was just what I needed when I felt so crap :) xx

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