Thursday, 7 January 2010 @ 20:42
kissing the lipless
Life is difficult. My mother's high again and seriously, this is getting old. I need stability in my life. If anything, that's probably the one thing I really haven't had all these years.
I honestly doubt anyone(or anyone I know)'s family is as screwed up as mine. I mean, it's enough to lose a dad through your parents' divorce. To see him so little it's tragic how he feels like a stranger when we meet every few months. When friends tell me cute stories about their fathers, I find I can't exactly relate. And my brother. It eats at me, the way we aren't close. We can't hold a decent conversation. Or an argument, even! I tend to ignore him every time he's being irritating now, because I really can't be bothered to fight. But come to think of it, I don't see him very often 'cause he's living with my grandma and her five cats since his new school's really near to her home, and opportunities to annoy are far from ample. And even though I appreciate the space I've been given through his absence, I kinda get into the mentality that I don't have a brother. This also happens with my dad.
Then there's my mom. The bipolar. She's pretty cool when she's sane. She's creative, she's a brilliant writer, she talks to me about interesting things and I trust her. So much that most of my secrets and opinions, she was the first to hear. I like that she's liberal, open-minded but at the same time, opinionated. She makes me feel good, the way she doesn't write me off as being stupid or whatever. She can be pretty blur sometimes, and it's funny and annoying but that's just her and I don't mind. But you know the trust we've built between each other, it disappears just like that every time I sense that something's amiss. Along with her sanity, her support, our nice conversations and my peace of mind.. all that just gets snatched right out of my hands.
And then I start being all emo and sad and distant and flaky in school and worry about her coming home that night and remembering every word of every weird fight we've had, nonsensical-impossible-to-answer-to comebacks from her and all. And after a few days, the frustration reaches its peak and I give in. I cry. I cried myself to sleep last night. And I cried in the cab on the way to the MRT station this morning.
I'm not crier. I rarely feel enough to have the tears to do it. Let me tell you that it takes a whole lot of hurt or stress or whatever to actually coax those salty motherfuckers out of me. I haven't cried in ages. So this whole mother thing, as much I tried to feel apathetic and unaffected in the past, it's a really difficult thing to go through. I hate how I feel so lost during these times. I don't know what to feel or do or say. I think mean things about others and I think mean things about myself. I am selfish. I get offended easily and I think I offend easily too. My days are so draining. My sleeping pattern is messed up. A lot of the time I feel that ache in my chest and throat and cheeks. But I don't cry, not until I feel enough.
I've been forced to deal with this practically my whole life. I was about two or so when my mom became a bipolar. I wish this was the kind of thing where after so many episodes, all the unpalatable experiences and memorable breakdowns, you become immune. I think that I am a little jaded, but it still hurts. I think that I've had to grow up faster than I should have. While people around me are dealing with curfews, being grounded or nagged at, I'm struggling with parents who tend to disappear and break promises and make me feel like I'm not really a child. As in, I'm not something someone gave birth to, I'm just.. this. Sometimes, being aware that I have to keep an ear out for anything weird or extreme coming out of my mother's mouth so I can try to decide if she's alright or not makes me feel nauseous. It's so sick to live this way. I just try my best to be OK.