anxiety is a wooden post you’ve swallowed
Kinda feels like that, huh? i think it’s the thing I probably need the most help with, but I’ve addressed the least. I guess there is a certain resilience people expect of you and you develop in these situations after a while. It’s like people just expect you to just deal with it, which I do of course. But wouldn’t it be nice to earn a little more empathy from the world around you?
Yeah…I realize some of these little lessons I am getting are because…uh, I guess I haven’t been tortured enough? I mean, come on now. But, articles like this seem to be resonating with me lately, because ultimately what has happened has been the ultimate rejection. Being left out? Well, being left homeless is about as left out as one could be in a family with so many different properties. In a family with means, one would think they would be more generous in their giving, but as I have said several times to myself in general realizations–nobody owes me a thing. And after 3.5 years of being here and paying rent and trying to manage things. Well, it appears we have worn out our welcome. Which is fine–I sense or feel rejection shade being thrown my way I certainly am not going to fight it as there certainly is no point to that. When I have felt not wanted I am almost repelled or propelled somewhere totally different so I can glean that level of comfort that you can have where you go somewhere where you are not unwanted.
That’s the most sobering realization about all of my declarations of our independence–many of them seem to be us making the decision not to attend, but it is largely about the invite. It just didn’t come from that family enough or really, ever, so our quick exit is certainly the only way they could handle it. I get it–I do. I am so far removed from their scope of vision or consideration. As a friend said…I hope they burn in hell. That is the kind of loyalty and allegiance I have inspired in my life–and both the tenants said to me separately on different occasions–“We are only here because of you two.” I know this, because we are super chill people who are heavily invested in the safety and well-being of our friends–and my mother’s general absence and ignorance to what it really has taken to manage this–it will end up being one of the bigger mistakes she’s made. Clearly me, I am totally disposable as a personal relationship in the general context of things, so any mistakes made there she certainly wouldn’t consider MISTAKES in the grand context of things. She will certainly feel better being away from us, and who wouldn’t want that at the end of the day…that relief? Hell, I wish I could, too, but it’s not about that.
Again…this is fine. I have walked away before and she clearly has as well. It sucks as the hurt I felt–as I told my birth father every single time a communication comes through from my sister completely devoid of emotion or anything sisterly–knowing the coldness is inspired from my own blood mother–my fucking heart breaks a little more each time. Which is precisely why I am cutting them off. It was better feeling rejected and IMAGINING it as an adult over actually GETTING REJECTED.
Eh. I am going to have to let it go and let it sit as a solved mystery in the context of this life–there is no other way for me to move forward after having the door slammed so violently in my face.
