I want to talk about the pain that you can never share, and that people will never know. I want to explain how some of us do it. How somehow we still manage to be everywhere and do everything. How, even when we disappear from the face of the earth for a while, we emerge and salvage it all, we create something out of nothing. Maybe it's not pretty, but it's something. Do people understand how difficult it is to rebuild, remake, reinvent, every single time. Even after it's all crumbled and slipped through your hands? Do you know the quiet strength it takes?
It's funny because I'm frequently accused of 'black and white thinking', but people trying to survive are the most adaptable of all. They can't afford to think in anything but shades of grey. Why? Because anything else will be too much to bear. They'll realise the truth they've been running from. Sometimes when I'm sitting not doing anything, I feel that truth creeping up on me. What is that truth? I can't say. I just don't know. I can't put words to it. So we keep going and going, and even when we stop, we don't really.
People tell you to try harder. Tell you to be 'resilient'. At a certain point, 'resilience' just becomes a stick to beat you with. I'm so busy trying to save everyone around me, but not because I'm noble. It's because I can't be alone. I need them to hold me up. I try and be happy for all of us, I'm sad for all of us, I hurt so deeply for all of us. I'm angry at the world because they're not bad people. And by they I mean my family. The people who can hurt and love you the most.
I wish I could go back and tell little me that's it ok. You don't have to hold them together. It's not your job. But it's become a job for life. I can't stand people who question or judge those who walk away from their families. Do they know how much pain has gone in to that decision? How brave and scary it is to go into the world without the people who brought you into it? Nobody else has to give a fuck about you. Supposedly your family does. I'm not here to tell anyone to give their family a chance or not. It's not for me to say. All I know is that I know how conflicted you may (or may not) feel. More and more I'm convinced that pain, suffering and trauma is passed down the generations. I see the pain in my mum's eyes as she inflicts the same pain on me. I know when she holds me tight afterwards and cries that, in that moment, she really is sorry.
My whole life I've felt like it was my job to save her. But now I'm scared of becoming her. And I feel so ashamed to say it. My mum is strong, and smart, and loving. But she's so broken and miserable at the same time. She feels so helpless. I don't want to be like that, but it's going the same way.
The worst thing parents do is make you choose. They make you pick a side. How can I?
Today my parents had an argument. I don't live with them, but I found out and rushed home. I thought it'd be over when I got back. It had only just started. I won't detail it all. Nobody needs to know all that. They were arguing about the same stuff they always do. They were pushing and shoving and throwing stuff and suddenly I felt like I was 12 years ago. When they argue I always become both the target, and entirely invisible. I become the object of their anger and hatred, and they carry on like I'm not there at all.
My mum grabbed me and screamed in my face. She said 'I hate you. I hate you. I hate you so much. You have ruined my life. You are the reason I'm stuck like this.'
She'd flipped my dad's side table over and his stuff scattered everywhere. I was helping him tidy it up. Then she tossed it all on the floor again. I begged her to stop. I said 'look what you've done'. She threw his medications away and I went into the bin to fish them out because he needs them.
I was angry too. I told her she's the cause of all our problems. I said she can't act like a victim when she ruined me. She said I disgusted her. i just wanted them to stop. I kept trying to get in between them to stop them hurting each other, but they both just kept pushing me or walking over me when I fell. I tried to get back on my feet before they made contact again but I was so tired. I'm so tired. They kept threatening to kill each other. For a moment I thought what a relief it would be if they did just kill each other. I got up once more but by that point I was just an obstacle in their way. They were shouting about me to each other, but somehow they didn't register me in the middle of them.
They both said the other had 'ruined' me. That the other had 'broken' me.
I can't put in to words how pathetic and worthless I felt on that moment, and now.
I still have a cold, and have got a cough that won't go away. I think that's why I was so exhausted. In the end I'd resigned myself to the fact that they'll do what they want. I sat at the dining table, saw that my favourite jumper I was wearing was torn, and started crying over it. But I think it was about more than the jumper. I listened to them smash things, I could hear them hit each other, scream. They threw my mum's bag and the strap tore off and landed right by me. I know it's just a material item, but she loved that bag. She got it on our holiday to Sicily. She'd been wanting one for ages and I helped her pick out the strap. I wish I'd cherished the happy moments more, because they're so rare. And immediately I turned to what I could and should have done. I always feel so helpless yet regret not doing more. I feel like it's all my fault.
There's grief, sadness, then anger. Why can't these fucking idiots be happy? Why is it so hard? Just shut the fuck up and be happy. Stop arguing. Stop hating each other.
My mum told me not to come back home. She told me to focus on my own life because there's nothing here. There's no family, no home.
My dad was getting ready to catch a flight. As he collected his things my mum followed him around. She said:
'Your daughter worships you because she loves you. She's spent her whole life looking for you and you're never there. I hurt for her because you were never there when she needed you. When she threw herself out of a car, where were you?'
He didn't say anything. He came towards me, kissed me on the cheek, and left. The cruel irony was that everything she was saying was right. Like he always does, he kissed me and left. He always leaves. He messaged later to ask if I'm ok. So many times I've told him no I'm not. I've said no I'm bleeding, no she kicked me out, no she strangled me, no she dislocated my shoulder. No she slapped me, no I'm covered in bruises. What difference has it ever made to anyone? Nothing brings people back. Nobody stays.
They tell me to focus on my life, but you can't just leave that stuff at the door on your way out. I hate seeing my parents cry. It makes me uncomfortable too. You can't cry. You're supposed to say everything is ok. What makes it worse is that I'm an adult now. There's an innocence people assume when you're a child. When you're an adult getting stuck in the the same cycles, people get tired. They tell you to get yourself out. But nobody ever taught me how. And now it's too late. It's too fucking late, for all of us.
It all hurts so much.
It's funny because I'm frequently accused of 'black and white thinking', but people trying to survive are the most adaptable of all. They can't afford to think in anything but shades of grey. Why? Because anything else will be too much to bear. They'll realise the truth they've been running from. Sometimes when I'm sitting not doing anything, I feel that truth creeping up on me. What is that truth? I can't say. I just don't know. I can't put words to it. So we keep going and going, and even when we stop, we don't really.
People tell you to try harder. Tell you to be 'resilient'. At a certain point, 'resilience' just becomes a stick to beat you with. I'm so busy trying to save everyone around me, but not because I'm noble. It's because I can't be alone. I need them to hold me up. I try and be happy for all of us, I'm sad for all of us, I hurt so deeply for all of us. I'm angry at the world because they're not bad people. And by they I mean my family. The people who can hurt and love you the most.
I wish I could go back and tell little me that's it ok. You don't have to hold them together. It's not your job. But it's become a job for life. I can't stand people who question or judge those who walk away from their families. Do they know how much pain has gone in to that decision? How brave and scary it is to go into the world without the people who brought you into it? Nobody else has to give a fuck about you. Supposedly your family does. I'm not here to tell anyone to give their family a chance or not. It's not for me to say. All I know is that I know how conflicted you may (or may not) feel. More and more I'm convinced that pain, suffering and trauma is passed down the generations. I see the pain in my mum's eyes as she inflicts the same pain on me. I know when she holds me tight afterwards and cries that, in that moment, she really is sorry.
My whole life I've felt like it was my job to save her. But now I'm scared of becoming her. And I feel so ashamed to say it. My mum is strong, and smart, and loving. But she's so broken and miserable at the same time. She feels so helpless. I don't want to be like that, but it's going the same way.
The worst thing parents do is make you choose. They make you pick a side. How can I?
Today my parents had an argument. I don't live with them, but I found out and rushed home. I thought it'd be over when I got back. It had only just started. I won't detail it all. Nobody needs to know all that. They were arguing about the same stuff they always do. They were pushing and shoving and throwing stuff and suddenly I felt like I was 12 years ago. When they argue I always become both the target, and entirely invisible. I become the object of their anger and hatred, and they carry on like I'm not there at all.
My mum grabbed me and screamed in my face. She said 'I hate you. I hate you. I hate you so much. You have ruined my life. You are the reason I'm stuck like this.'
She'd flipped my dad's side table over and his stuff scattered everywhere. I was helping him tidy it up. Then she tossed it all on the floor again. I begged her to stop. I said 'look what you've done'. She threw his medications away and I went into the bin to fish them out because he needs them.
I was angry too. I told her she's the cause of all our problems. I said she can't act like a victim when she ruined me. She said I disgusted her. i just wanted them to stop. I kept trying to get in between them to stop them hurting each other, but they both just kept pushing me or walking over me when I fell. I tried to get back on my feet before they made contact again but I was so tired. I'm so tired. They kept threatening to kill each other. For a moment I thought what a relief it would be if they did just kill each other. I got up once more but by that point I was just an obstacle in their way. They were shouting about me to each other, but somehow they didn't register me in the middle of them.
They both said the other had 'ruined' me. That the other had 'broken' me.
I can't put in to words how pathetic and worthless I felt on that moment, and now.
I still have a cold, and have got a cough that won't go away. I think that's why I was so exhausted. In the end I'd resigned myself to the fact that they'll do what they want. I sat at the dining table, saw that my favourite jumper I was wearing was torn, and started crying over it. But I think it was about more than the jumper. I listened to them smash things, I could hear them hit each other, scream. They threw my mum's bag and the strap tore off and landed right by me. I know it's just a material item, but she loved that bag. She got it on our holiday to Sicily. She'd been wanting one for ages and I helped her pick out the strap. I wish I'd cherished the happy moments more, because they're so rare. And immediately I turned to what I could and should have done. I always feel so helpless yet regret not doing more. I feel like it's all my fault.
There's grief, sadness, then anger. Why can't these fucking idiots be happy? Why is it so hard? Just shut the fuck up and be happy. Stop arguing. Stop hating each other.
My mum told me not to come back home. She told me to focus on my own life because there's nothing here. There's no family, no home.
My dad was getting ready to catch a flight. As he collected his things my mum followed him around. She said:
'Your daughter worships you because she loves you. She's spent her whole life looking for you and you're never there. I hurt for her because you were never there when she needed you. When she threw herself out of a car, where were you?'
He didn't say anything. He came towards me, kissed me on the cheek, and left. The cruel irony was that everything she was saying was right. Like he always does, he kissed me and left. He always leaves. He messaged later to ask if I'm ok. So many times I've told him no I'm not. I've said no I'm bleeding, no she kicked me out, no she strangled me, no she dislocated my shoulder. No she slapped me, no I'm covered in bruises. What difference has it ever made to anyone? Nothing brings people back. Nobody stays.
They tell me to focus on my life, but you can't just leave that stuff at the door on your way out. I hate seeing my parents cry. It makes me uncomfortable too. You can't cry. You're supposed to say everything is ok. What makes it worse is that I'm an adult now. There's an innocence people assume when you're a child. When you're an adult getting stuck in the the same cycles, people get tired. They tell you to get yourself out. But nobody ever taught me how. And now it's too late. It's too fucking late, for all of us.
It all hurts so much.
