The Opposite Of Ohana

Lilo

I don’t think I’m ok right now. That’s the conclusion I’ve come to since my last post. As much as some weight has been lifted from me by telling my best friend and (sort of) telling my other half, I still feel really unhappy a lot of the time. I wish I could turn it off, but I can’t. If anything, I’ve realised that telling people has brought about other problems and pressures too, along with a lot of uncertainty – something which replaces some of the previous pressure. I was wrong when I said I could now focus on stuff. I thought I could but to be quite honest, it’s not made too much difference. Not in the long term anyway. I still hate myself and the way that I am, and I still look for ways out. Suicidal thoughts are still knocking around, albeit in a more subdued kind of way. They just wait quietly at the side, ready to step forward if called upon. Sometimes, they provide a slight reminder of the relief which they can offer. I’m not going to lie, it’s really tempting at times – especially the lonely times which seem to be happening more and more, despite having told people. It’s a weird trade off isn’t it? Tell people, feel more lonely. It’s pretty fucked up. I can’t say for certain why it’s like this, all I can say is that it is.

I’ve had some interaction from my various members of family recently, which hasn’t helped. Not by choice though. My dad has a habit of contacting me only when he wants something. Otherwise, nothing. Yet he’ll then have a go at me for not keeping in touch. I used to care. I used to try and explain that it works both ways. I no longer care. It’s easier to just leave him to it. I’m not in the mood to go into my dad’s latest reason for contacting me, so for now let’s just say there’s a lot of bad history between us and that he can be a very selfish person at times. I think having contact from my family has unsettled me because it’s made me realise they would be the next people to tell. They’re supposed to be able to support me too. Truth is, they can’t. My mom and dad will never understand this. When they found out about my eating disorder, they just told me to eat. They still do to this day. Oh yeh, why didn’t I think of that?! When they found out I was down or suffering from depression, they told me not to be so down. So that’s where I’ve been going wrong all this time.

My brother and I don’t really talk. He holds grudges like a venus fly trap. At least he’s one person in my family I don’t have to care about disappointing. He and my dad don’t get on, and he makes it very known. Yet he still lives at home. From making digs to offensive comments to physically going out of his way to show my dad that he doesn’t like him, he’s capable of doing it all. And that’s what he’ll do to me when or if he ever found out. Yey.

My sister is somebody that you’d expect to understand. She’s only 2 years older than I am and, along with my brother, we were born here. Sadly she’s quite “restricted” in how she sees the world. I heard her speaking to my mom once about someone who was gay. How she referred to them made me sick to be related to her. It wasn’t homophobic, let’s get that clear, but it wasn’t nice either. Her tone and the words she used referred to that person as if they were something other than a person or an equal. She may say she’s accepting of people that are different, but the way she talks about them doesn’t support that. Now, I know my sister and she doesn’t do it on purpose. As I mentioned in a post from a while ago, she just doesn’t think. She never stops to consider the actual words that leave her mouth or how people different to her must be feeling. She’ll come out with stuff that is tactless and blunt. She won’t realise nor understand why someone is then upset. There’s no responsibility on her part for how she treats people. She’s always been like that. It’s why I’ve never felt able to talk to her about anything too meaningful or personal. Now that she’s a parent, her priority is her son – my nephew. That’s another reason why it’s better to distance myself from them. I can’t put my nephew through this. Imagine all the questions he’ll have as he gets older. I wouldn’t want to put him (or anybody) through the shame or embarrassment of being associated with me.

Unlike friends or people around me, ignoring or avoiding family is difficult. People soon forget about you when you’re not around but family will always be family, no matter where you are. That bond can’t ever be forgotten or erased. I moved across the country to get away from mine but I could never shake the fact that they were who they were. For me, this is a big problem. I feel like it’s holding me back from knowing what I want to do. Right now, my outlook for the future is limited. I can’t see how this is going to work out at all. I’ve simply gone too far in life to be able to do anything. Up to this very moment of my life, my family have seen me in one way. The only way they have ever seen me: a son or a brother. Despite telling them I’d shortened and changed my name, they still call me by my old name. It’s like I never told them. They don’t know how much it upsets me that they can’t even make the effort to respect my wishes. They never stop to think about these things. I guess that’s why I’ve always gone out of my way to help or be considerate of others. I don’t want to be like my family and, a lot of the time, I do think it’s best to just distance myself from them. After all, if they don’t get the importance of a name, what chance have I got for anything more from them?

Featured image: via Giphy
Featured video: “Gone” by Asking Alexandria (via Sumerian Records’ YouTube page)

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