I’m crying again.
Today’s post was written a few hours after yesterday’s, which was written shortly after the day before, so you’re getting a night’s worth of torment stretched over a couple days. Sorry about that.
The more I think about it, the more I’m realizing that the constant cycle of disappointing my parents in some way isn’t a new cycle. It’s just amplified because I’ve been independent and don’t visit often. My stepdad and I fought through most of my high school experience. Mom has never really accepted my mental illness, so I’ve been hitting resistance for that since the day I said I thought I needed help because I was depressed, which was years after it had all started.
Mom said that she’s got twelve years of my dad behind her, so thinking about my illness is hard for her. She wants to deny it. I’d love to as well, but I’m the one with it stuck in my head, so I’ve got to face it.
It’s been seventeen years since mom remarried, and most of that time I’ve been fighting with my parents over something, all the time. I’ve never understood it, because I was the good kid. I made good grades, I had a job, I tried SO HARD to please them, but it’s never really worked.
But it occurred to me a little bit ago in the shower, that it’s coming from a place of fear, more than anger.
I scare the shit out of my mom, because I’m so much more like my dad than like her. I’ve got the mental illness, I’m fat, I’m more type B than A. I hate that I am like him and have spent years in therapy working through that, but I don’t know if mom ever really has. I know my sister is so much more like my mom, and she doesn’t really struggle with mom like I do. She and my stepdad still battle, too, so at least that one’s not really me. He also is coming from a place of fear, too; he’s constantly trying to make up for his daughters’ shortcomings by being hard on us three. And because we were all pretty good kids and we did as we were told for the most part, and we were there 100% of the time, unlike his daughters who came on the weekend, we took the brunt of that fear, as well as the brunt of his alcoholism. I have been on the receiving end of the alcoholism for my entire life, but I face it.
I guess that makes me brave, that I keep fighting back, and working so hard to better myself, but it feels like I just continue to fail over and over again because I can’t be whatever it is my parents want me to be. It’s impossible because I am my own person and I can’t change the fact that I have bipolar disorder, that things that other people can take in stride can trigger me really badly, like seeing an action movie too late at night or having too much fun at once can trigger mania, or how alcohol makes me panicky, or how I end up depressed whenever I’m criticized because I just feel like a failure all over again.
I know my parents love me. I do. I just want them to understand me and accept me as I am, instead of trying to make me someone I’m not and never can be.
The thoughts are so bad tonight. I can’t get past feeling like such a disappointment and that my family would be happier without me there, being the black sheep, the one that makes them feel uncomfortable because I’m so broken. I feel like such a burden and so beaten down because I can’t find a job and my whole life is up in the air. My parents don’t want me to live there with them, so I feel like there’s just no real point anymore.
I don’t even know who I could call right now. It’s hard when most of my support network is part of the reason I’m depressed and hurting. It’s 3:48 in the morning, too, so it’s hard to call people that I know would be cool with the call if it was, y’know, daytime, but they have lives and jobs and waking them up to sob in their general direction isn’t going to make their lives very comfortable the next day.
I should just go to bed, but I wanted to get some of this out of my head.
I just wish I could be who my family wants, so they weren’t so inconvenienced and burdened. And as I can’t be, I just don’t know if it would be better if I just went away.