Heartbreak and other things
Aug. 7th, 2018 07:31 pm My heart is breaking into a million peices again. I'd like it to be because my dad is dead and yes that hurts. It doesn't hurt as much as watching him go slowly but it aches and I wish he was here. His funeral brought the other things to a head though. Things that will never mend.
My family was broken before he died. I have 4 siblings and only one of them remotely knows who I am. In my dads eulogy my sister said I was a fucking actress of all things. My brother spent 10 minutes trying to convince me I never lived in the hell hole i grew up in. That my memories were not important, not valid , and not enough to shape who I am as a person.
I'd forgotten that about them. Of all my siblings I have one that I maybe could lean on sometimes if the moon is right. I'd forgotten that it wasnt just me sustaining the split in our relationship, it was years of teasing and put downs, years of perpetuating the belief that I was pampered, not held accountable for my behavior, and not generally a part of the group.
I was abused too- and each time I reached out for support it was worse than being smacked away- it was being told that I didnt need help in the first place, that I was being a drama queen, that my needs were unimportant and God forbid I express those needs.
My siblings dont want me and they never have. It's no wonder that the tape "there is something wrong with you" plays on repeat in my head. I dont know why I thought my dad funeral would somehow make it better for a moment.
It's no wonder Richard finds me baffling- I'm not afraid to ask for help, I'm afraid to have needs in general. He doesnt understand that when he needs I can pour and pour and pour myself into the void of his absences but I cant ask for anything from him, especially when he's hurting.
Fuck...
My family was broken before he died. I have 4 siblings and only one of them remotely knows who I am. In my dads eulogy my sister said I was a fucking actress of all things. My brother spent 10 minutes trying to convince me I never lived in the hell hole i grew up in. That my memories were not important, not valid , and not enough to shape who I am as a person.
I'd forgotten that about them. Of all my siblings I have one that I maybe could lean on sometimes if the moon is right. I'd forgotten that it wasnt just me sustaining the split in our relationship, it was years of teasing and put downs, years of perpetuating the belief that I was pampered, not held accountable for my behavior, and not generally a part of the group.
I was abused too- and each time I reached out for support it was worse than being smacked away- it was being told that I didnt need help in the first place, that I was being a drama queen, that my needs were unimportant and God forbid I express those needs.
My siblings dont want me and they never have. It's no wonder that the tape "there is something wrong with you" plays on repeat in my head. I dont know why I thought my dad funeral would somehow make it better for a moment.
It's no wonder Richard finds me baffling- I'm not afraid to ask for help, I'm afraid to have needs in general. He doesnt understand that when he needs I can pour and pour and pour myself into the void of his absences but I cant ask for anything from him, especially when he's hurting.
Fuck...