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You know, I really thought I could escape some of my personal demons after moving to Japan. I really thought that moving to the other side of the planet would help me get over some things, but it looks like I was totally wrong about it.
It took me most of my life, but I finally got over the fact that my parents will never see me for who I really am, and I got over the fact that they along with pretty much all of my other relatives prefer to come up with their own conclusions about me despite the fact that they never really ever talked to me. I grew up learning not to mention much about myself because whenever I did, the subject would change to something else or someone would point out something wrong about whatever it is I wanted to express. For some reason, some of those people still felt it necessary to ask some questions about how I was doing in school, but I really don't think anyone listened to the answers, because sooner or later they'd ask me the exact same question and I would have to repeat the answers. This was mostly with my mom, but everyone else would do it a bit too. I knew for a while before I graduated from NKU that I wasn't going to go straight into Graduate School, and yet, no matter how many times I would say it, my parents continued to believe that I had applied to a school and that I would be going to school the semester after I graduated. They might still think that I'm off to graduate school. I really don't know.
So now that I know for a fact what the people in my family are like, and I know that there is little to nothing in this world that can make them realize how self-centered and completely unable of empathy they are, why am I still upset about it? The longer I've been in Japan, the more often I find myself wondering what my parents think of me and what the hell they're doing with themselves. I still can't stop thinking about how they go to a therapist, the same one I've been going to for years, and still telling him that they're completely clueless about me despite the fact that I lived with these people for most of my life. The anger that I've felt all my life isn't going away and I don't know what to do about it any more.
I realized a little while ago that I was more or less running away from all of this, but really, what else can I do? I've expressed these feeling to my parents before, and they always put all the blame for this on me. The see me as the flaw, the one who doesn't understand what I'm feeling and that I'm messed up in the head. If this was some kind of friend, I would have no trouble ditching them and moving on with my life, but these are my fucking parents. These were people who were supposed to take my physical, mental, and social needs before I could do so myself, and for whatever reason (maybe because they're egotistical and money-hungry assholes) they stopped at the physical needs. I never had to worry about going hungry or having a roof over my head when I was younger, but if I was having a bad day, there was literally no one I could turn to for a very long time. I even remember coming to mom about something. All I wanted was some acknowledgement that yes, the situation sucked and it was ok for me to be upset about it. All she said was "Life's a bitch and then you die." And left it at that. I really don't think that my parents understand that I'm my person, that I experience things differently than they do, and that I have emotional needs like everyone else. Throughout my entire time in high school, and even a little before that if I remember right, my mental state was so bad that suicide really felt like the only way out. I came so close to taking my own life, and my parents knew that this was going on. They did absolutely nothing about it. I don't know how many hours total I spent crying to myself in my room and wondering about which way to kill myself would be the least painful. I think the worst part of it was that there usually someone just downstairs while I was crying. The experience that finally lit the neon sign for me to get the fuck away from those people was when I had come home from Japan the second time. I can't remember what happened to trigger it, but I had a major panic attack in my room. I was crying so hard that I vomited and I didn't realize what it was at the time. In any case, everyone else was home. My brother was just across the hall and I know he could hear me. My dad was in his room, my mom was downstairs and I even asked her to call the doctor for me. No one reacted to this. It was like I wasn't even there even though I was retching and eventually dry-heaving in my room.
And the emotional thing is a problem with my entire family. One time, I went up to see my aunt and uncle to get some help on how I was going to stop living off of my parents. I spilled my guts to them, and I was literally sobbing the whole time. Not once did they try to say anything comforting. Not once did they tell me it was going to be ok. They just sat there and watched me cry. And then they wonder why I never came back to visit them. It's like I'm dealing with androids, except that they have no interest in even trying to understand human emotion. Data (before he got the emotion chip) would have been a far better person to comfort me than any one of my relatives. (Save for my Aunt Karen, who is the only relative I'm staying in contact with.)
I've been thinking about trying to convey my thoughts to my parents one more time. I'm sorry to say that there's still a part of me that really wants it to change them and make them realize that they've been terrible people, but I know it won't. Even if I keep the letter polite, I'm pretty sure that they'd stop reading halfway through it. I just want to get this off my chest. I'm so tired of crying over this all the time, and I'm so tired of feeling hurt and angry. I want to be able to move on with my life and finally be happy, but I don't know how.
It took me most of my life, but I finally got over the fact that my parents will never see me for who I really am, and I got over the fact that they along with pretty much all of my other relatives prefer to come up with their own conclusions about me despite the fact that they never really ever talked to me. I grew up learning not to mention much about myself because whenever I did, the subject would change to something else or someone would point out something wrong about whatever it is I wanted to express. For some reason, some of those people still felt it necessary to ask some questions about how I was doing in school, but I really don't think anyone listened to the answers, because sooner or later they'd ask me the exact same question and I would have to repeat the answers. This was mostly with my mom, but everyone else would do it a bit too. I knew for a while before I graduated from NKU that I wasn't going to go straight into Graduate School, and yet, no matter how many times I would say it, my parents continued to believe that I had applied to a school and that I would be going to school the semester after I graduated. They might still think that I'm off to graduate school. I really don't know.
So now that I know for a fact what the people in my family are like, and I know that there is little to nothing in this world that can make them realize how self-centered and completely unable of empathy they are, why am I still upset about it? The longer I've been in Japan, the more often I find myself wondering what my parents think of me and what the hell they're doing with themselves. I still can't stop thinking about how they go to a therapist, the same one I've been going to for years, and still telling him that they're completely clueless about me despite the fact that I lived with these people for most of my life. The anger that I've felt all my life isn't going away and I don't know what to do about it any more.
I realized a little while ago that I was more or less running away from all of this, but really, what else can I do? I've expressed these feeling to my parents before, and they always put all the blame for this on me. The see me as the flaw, the one who doesn't understand what I'm feeling and that I'm messed up in the head. If this was some kind of friend, I would have no trouble ditching them and moving on with my life, but these are my fucking parents. These were people who were supposed to take my physical, mental, and social needs before I could do so myself, and for whatever reason (maybe because they're egotistical and money-hungry assholes) they stopped at the physical needs. I never had to worry about going hungry or having a roof over my head when I was younger, but if I was having a bad day, there was literally no one I could turn to for a very long time. I even remember coming to mom about something. All I wanted was some acknowledgement that yes, the situation sucked and it was ok for me to be upset about it. All she said was "Life's a bitch and then you die." And left it at that. I really don't think that my parents understand that I'm my person, that I experience things differently than they do, and that I have emotional needs like everyone else. Throughout my entire time in high school, and even a little before that if I remember right, my mental state was so bad that suicide really felt like the only way out. I came so close to taking my own life, and my parents knew that this was going on. They did absolutely nothing about it. I don't know how many hours total I spent crying to myself in my room and wondering about which way to kill myself would be the least painful. I think the worst part of it was that there usually someone just downstairs while I was crying. The experience that finally lit the neon sign for me to get the fuck away from those people was when I had come home from Japan the second time. I can't remember what happened to trigger it, but I had a major panic attack in my room. I was crying so hard that I vomited and I didn't realize what it was at the time. In any case, everyone else was home. My brother was just across the hall and I know he could hear me. My dad was in his room, my mom was downstairs and I even asked her to call the doctor for me. No one reacted to this. It was like I wasn't even there even though I was retching and eventually dry-heaving in my room.
And the emotional thing is a problem with my entire family. One time, I went up to see my aunt and uncle to get some help on how I was going to stop living off of my parents. I spilled my guts to them, and I was literally sobbing the whole time. Not once did they try to say anything comforting. Not once did they tell me it was going to be ok. They just sat there and watched me cry. And then they wonder why I never came back to visit them. It's like I'm dealing with androids, except that they have no interest in even trying to understand human emotion. Data (before he got the emotion chip) would have been a far better person to comfort me than any one of my relatives. (Save for my Aunt Karen, who is the only relative I'm staying in contact with.)
I've been thinking about trying to convey my thoughts to my parents one more time. I'm sorry to say that there's still a part of me that really wants it to change them and make them realize that they've been terrible people, but I know it won't. Even if I keep the letter polite, I'm pretty sure that they'd stop reading halfway through it. I just want to get this off my chest. I'm so tired of crying over this all the time, and I'm so tired of feeling hurt and angry. I want to be able to move on with my life and finally be happy, but I don't know how.
