Posts tagged family
Posts tagged family
He says that his workplace is purposely sending young girls across his path at places like the bank, the grocery store or even in restaurants so that they can build a false case against him as some kind of pedophile. Being my only contact with my family, my dad now keeps his phone turned off nearly 24/7 because it’s “so obvious“[ly] bugged.
He says that the guys in security at his workplace follow him everywhere. He doesn’t like to go out in public as often.
My friend says the stress of taking care of my ridiculously dependent and psychotic family, age, his heart attack and a lot of other things must be contibuting to this severe paranoia. Just when I thought my sister was 10x more than fine, she turns schizo. When I know my dad is okay because obviously, mental illness isn’t in his family line, this winds up happening.
I feel like Alice in Wonderland. To top it off, just before I left to come back to my College-Town, my brother winds up going to a psych ward for attempting to kidnap his own child, having beaten my little brother [who was babysitting] up in the process.
Me and my little brother, so far, are the only ones who appear sane in this large family. Little do they know that I’ve been extremely suicidal for half my life and I have no idea if it’s because I’m crazy too, or if my family situation/child neglect would genuinely be a devastating problem for any human being to deal with. I hate that mormon families have overwhelming amounts of children. If only they knew what choices like that can mean if responsibility slips period, or even at the slightest form of mental illness. There is nothing more painful than feeling alone and like the only freak in a room full of people.
I’m learning how to associate more humor into the disconnect between me and my dad. I wish it were some obviously untrue melodramatic ‘wahh nobody cares’ thing, but it’s scary when, literally, the only contact I have with my family is a 6-minute call about once or twice a month from my dad. (I can never get a hold of him when I call)
I went home to visit this past weekend. It was not very good. If I could tell Dr. Malcolm what it’s like seeing my family, this is exactly what I would’ve expressed.
I also found out that my 24-year-old sister/’million-dollar single mother’ managed to leave her 1 year old alone considerably long enough to pry open, tip over, roll in and consume paint thinner. Thankfully, poison control was able to help and the baby survived. (Thank goodness she even thought to call poison control)
My home is haunted by empty careless people who obliterate any love and confidence that comes within ten feet of them. I’ve felt guilty for not loving them more for the longest time, but I think I’m learning that that’s okay. And that sometimes… that’s okay with God.
“Growing up in any family can be challenging at times, but there are often special problems and challenges for families in which one or several family members have a mental illness. Members of these families often have to deal with instability or unpredictability. Often there is confusion in family roles, and children or other family members may have to take over many of the adult responsibilities, such as taking care of younger brothers and sisters or managing household duties normally managed by adults. They may even have the responsibility of taking care of the emotional or physical needs of their parents. Children and other family members in these situations do not always receive the care and nurturing they need. They may feel ashamed to talk about their situation with others and consequently may withdraw from relatives or friends who could help them or support them. Often unable to articulate their needs, even to themselves, these individuals frequently feel isolated and alone.”
Individuals who cope with chronic and severe mental illness in the family may also experience other difficulties outside of their family-of-origin relationships. These may include:
This winter break, I’m home again until January 17th. Last winter break was okay, but when my friends left to go back to school in the middle of it all, I was completely alone for 2 weeks. I managed, but it wasn’t fun.
Well this time, it’s even worse because I don’t have a room. My 30 year old brother moved back in with my parents and took my old room last summer. I sleep on the couch and I have no where to put my things. I live out of my suitcase. My sister and her 3 year old get up super early and she doesn’t watch him so he comes running out into the living room, screaming and sometimes (to his amusement) attacking me. My mp3 player mysteriously dissappeared around here… I can’t go anywhere, but outside in the cold whenever the fights start happening.
For some reason, we don’t have a kitchen table anymore. When my sister moved in, she left all of her stuff out and around the house and now I’m being forced to paint and clean both of the rooms she and her kids are supposed to stay in. She refuses to help and claims that she is too busy, but clearly not busy enough to stand in front of the mirror and work on her foundation or hair for an hour while her kid runs around unwatched.
Nobody has cleaned here in months. We don’t have a door knob on the bathroom door. It looks like somebody ripped it out of the wall. (Probably my other brother before he and my sister switched places) Nobody likes to take out the trash here or clean their own dishes, so it piles up until somebody takes responsibility; … Me.
I used to think it did even out and that it provided an adequate substitute for the attention, normalcy and acceptance that one should recieve in their own families on a daily basis. But as painfully tortuous as it sounds to me…. friends aren’t always a daily basis in life.
Friends come and go. They don’t always have to like you. Sometimes they don’t want to talk to you for days and sometimes you’ll be their last resort on the weekends. Some friends only want to text you and never call while others prefer lunchdates every two weeks. If you’re lucky, you manage to find ones that decide to hang out with you as often as immediately convenient for them.
Your family has an obligation to love, care and support you… But friends don’t.
And…. thats perfectly fair.
It’s just… the setup that’s messed up. The imbalance. It’s not anyone’s fault that my family is selfish, abusive and comprised of mentally unstable persons/drug addicts. It’s not anyone’s obligation to stand in and help fulfill that area of personal loneliness. As a bonus, my family problems are extremely overwhelming/oftentimes aboslutely helpless and seem to arrive as one big pity party. This is an independent battle of which no person can immediately help, except for (maybe) a therapist and most importantly, myself.
It’s just really hard when even the slightest piece of honest rejection coming from a trusted friend hits me because they are, literally, all I’ve got. So much so that I become physically sick and I feel like I want to run as far away as possible. This, combined with the despair of my familiy situation, contributes to that horrifying, wretched wave of suicidal thoughts.
The blues came at me again…
My dad called me for the first time in 3 weeks. His objective was to know the date I was coming home so he could know when to pick me up. We exchanged small talk, which mostly consisted of me telling him a list of things I thought would make him proud of me. He responded with the usually cryptic and hard to read, “that’s great hun.” He ended my talk in less than 15 minutes with, “well I guess I’ll see you May 13th then. I love you hun… mhm buh-bye.”
I can’t describe how much the words, “wait dad! I want to talk a little bit more. I miss you.” were shivering in my throat after he had already hung up. They were so hot that my eyes started to sweat, and I wanted more than anything for him to call me back and tell me that I’m a good artist, or that I’m special, or that he loves and cares for me. That he misses me around the house or… just anything. But its always nothing. It’s him checking about a date, money or a holiday, or anything that would include him coming to pick me up from school. When I’m with him, he either says nothing or talks about my sister, or he’ll talk about history or the gospel. Which are all good things. My dad is very wise.
A lot of times when I’m upset, or just plain lonely, I attempt to give myself a moody pep-talk: “Well you gotta do this, so you might as well persevere. You’ll rest after you’re dead.” I then sigh and wonder how much longer I’ve got to live. It would be so much easier if I got hit by a bus, shot by a stranger or died spontaneously in my sleep. It’d be easier if fate made the decision for me and took me away from my trials, from my work, and from my responsibilities and told me I’m done feeling anything for a little while. Some days, I just want to collapse and never do anything ever again. But no matter how many times I squeeze my eyes shut, I can still feel myself tangled under the covers of my bed, and the cold tears soaking the pillow beneath my cheek. I can still feel the pains of abandonment, the desire and hopelessness of change, and the intense fear of a miserable future.
She doesn’t know about my family and she doesn’t know about my past
She doesn’t know how incredibly lonely I’ve been the past week
She doesn’t know how afraid I am of my life
But she drove me to her house and we watched a movie.
We laughed and we talked about small things.
We played a board game, watched tv together
and enjoyed the company of a visiting friend.
She dropped me off at home and drove away.
Nothing too far from the old ordinary thing
But there are two extremely significant feelings I have right now that I want to share with you:
1. I’m drained.
2. I’m calm.