One time my mom told me that I was a disappointment because of my gender when she was drunk—or “not drunk, but inebriated” as she says which I find a bit funny. I’m not offended by that sort of thing very much because usually I can at least try to fix it, but that’s not something I can change or really want to change at all. She also was complaining about my half-brothers, who are honestly not that great of people, but what she had to say made me a little sad because I know that I’ll probably fuck up as hard as they did sooner or later then she’ll complain about me to the next person who’s willing to listen. My mom’s not even a bad person, she just seems to have a mild victim mentality when it comes to her kids and, like most people I assume, she’s a quite obnoxious and blunt when she drinks too much (which doesn’t necessarily happen a lot, no worries).
Sometimes I think my parents use to expect more of me or something because out of all my siblings, I’m the only one who hasn’t been diagnosed with some sort of physical or mental illness. I also haven’t made a mistake big enough to ruin or somewhat damage my entire future yet. I know they’re now extremely let down if that’s the case. It’s not like I’ve ever seen a professional to be diagnosed with any mental illness, though, and I’m really not the kind of Tumblrina that uses WebMD to diagnose themself with every “trendy” illness out there because that’s fucking stupid. I wish I could be better. I’m trying, but not hard enough it seems.
My older sister, we’ll call her Teresa, makes me nervous. It’s kind of hard to explain, but she just makes these weird jokes about me when no one’s around. I can’t quite remember what I did exactly to set her off last year, I was probably being a bitch in some way or another like usual, but she tried to hit me and then started to choke me, so I scratched up her arm with my finger nails while trying to push her off. I didn’t really mean to hurt her, I was just really fucking scared and pissed off at the fact that she’d attack me. Like, was she trying to kill me? That’s dramatic, she wasn’t, unlike me she’s probably a good person and will be worth something when she’s older. For a couple days after my parents—mostly my dad—seemed to be trying to guilt-trip me with shit questions at breakfast like “Jeez, Maxwell, did you see what you did to her arm?” I mean, I get it, I obviously did something wrong and should feel bad and I do, but I was also trying to defend myself. Maybe I shouldn’t have done anything, I don’t know. More recently, my mom caused her to lose it this time in some way or another which was odd because usually I’m the root of all drama and negativity in this family. Teresa began threatening to commit suicide and I was trying to convince her not to and then she screamed something like “Why don’t I just kill you then?” then chased me off with her laptop like she was going to hit me with it. I said something wrong and maybe it would’ve been better if I didn’t say anything at all. I clearly don’t have the ability to try and make people OK, but oh so wonderfully, I have the ability make things worse. The day after she acted like nothing ever happened like she normally does when she gets into an argument or something like that, but I don’t know if she’s actually alright. Although I do wish she’d stop treating me the way she does, I hope she is.
This is only the negative stuff because I don’t really have anyone to talk to about it because I feel my friends’ll care too much and blow things way out of proportions. My family is actually pretty fantastic and I love them all very much.
How are you? I hope well. Life can get pretty… bothersome, which you probably already know, but good luck to you and be careful anyways.
Photo credit to “Rendo Eko Riyadi” on Pexels.com