As silly as it might sound, every time I vent here, which is generally a healthy way to go about it, I feel incredibly whiny. I sit on a lot more than I probably should because I don’t want to risk drama with anyone, which yanno… keeps things bottled up. But I guess I’m overly aware of the consequences that actions can have, and so my head runs away with the what-ifs and ‘don’t want that to happens’ and prevents me from trying to work some things out that would be good to work out.

I mentioned last night that a patch of ‘Surprise, rage!’ came to visit last night, but I didn’t dissect one of the bigger parts of it. That is, of course, my birth family. Now, one of the things I like about this modern age is that people are on the whole more honest about the fact that their families don’t resemble Leave it to Beaver in the slightest. I know for myself, I identified more with the Bundys of Married with Children; we might have been dysfunctional as could be, but we had family pride. Or at least, it was instilled in me in such a heavy-handed way that I let it be a handle on me for much too long. It makes sense, seeing how I was told as early as age four that I needed to be a grown-up and help raise my three siblings; I just didn’t expect to get raising my parents as a bonus.

Now, don’t get me wrong — they are both freakishly intelligent, inquisitive, and socially delightful people. I fully understand why friends who have met them think I am ungrateful and hateful when I express that I have problems with them. From the outside, they do look like some pretty kick-ass parents. But from the inside? One has tried to live vicariously through me and be my BFF since I was a kid (and then not understanding why I don’t respond well to being parented at), and the other is balls insane and more emotionally needy than a fleet of daycares. So when a friend reminded me that my parents hadn’t done something that I’d requested for preparation of my trip to the States, it snuck in through a gap in my mental defenses and pushed me to full-out rage. Mom is the one I usually deal with because, in spite of her ‘misuse’ of me, she is the one that I get along with best. But she is horribly forgetful and flighty and high-strung and it stresses me out very badly to have to drag her down to earth to get things through her head. I suspect she is bipolar like me in addition to the ADHD she’s diagnosed herself with, so there’s definitely a nest of vipers there. My (step)father, on the other hand, is a huge ball of sunshine with no more desire in his heart but to help his loved ones as quickly and efficiently as possible. He would be ideal to deal with except for one thing — the aforementioned emotional neediness. I don’t know about you guys, but someone chirping, ‘I love you!’ at every single opportunity is distressingly needy; it puts pressure on me to reciprocate when I do not feel comfortable doing such. And lest you think I’m exaggerating — I used to count every day growing up, and he would say it on average 20-30 times a day to me. While he might just feel that much love, I can only hope that people would agree that is disturbingly excessive. There’s also a person reason tied into a childhood event that also makes me less inclined to reciprocate those three words… but that’s a tale for another time.

Now, if I can manage to leave this up without freaking out and trying to hide my feelings (because part of my upbringing was that my feelings were invalid — Mom isn’t allowed to feel, yanno (and I know, I’ve applied that to my own mother too, creating a vicious cycle)). I hope I manage to, because it should serve to remind me that my feelings and experiences are valid.

<3