When they just make you feel bad

It's been a few days since I've thinking about what to write about in here. I've been struggling with drepession for the past year, and while a lot of this time has worked for me to understand what really happened when I tried to kill myself, it has also made me realize how there are so many things in my life that always make me feel worse and worse even when I'm trying to feel alright. The thing is, my family hasn't exactly been the most supportive element, as one would expect, or at least how I would have. I'll leave me dad out of this one. He was always there for me, 100%, taking me to therapy and refusing to leave me alone when I shouldn't, physically or otherwise, and I totally get what that all meant. But at the same time, the rest of my family has been just awful, and even more awful because of the fact that it feels almost blasphemous to say such a thing, even though it's nothing but the truth.

 

After I attempted suicide (I had an overdose on Lexotan but I also slit my wrists while I was tripping balls), I had a conversation with my mom and she asked me if I'd done it on a dare. I don't know if that is even a possibility for anyone, but I remember my friends being pretty terrified and some of them were even trying to hide how angry they got, so I absolutely don't know anyone who'd dare a friend to kill themselves. And I told my mom she was being a raging bitch and that it wasn't helpful, and her response was to say that I'm way too clever to be depressed, even though it's a mental illness and being smart has nothing to do with it. Now I just avoid discussing this with my mom, and anyway she is always trying to pry me open asking what was the intention behind it, when the truth is my life was so shitty and I had to hide so many things from the people around me that there isn't a straight answer, but I also don't feel like telling her what was going on. Because she's hella insenstive, in case you couldn't guess. My brother and my grandmother have just absorbed the fact and now it's nothing's ever happened, which is messed up but more comfortable.

 

The one that's really making me swing violently on the edge of my depression is my grandfather. He is a sick son of a bitch. For starters, the first convo I had with him when I came back from the hospital was about how much money each of the pills I took cost. The first thing I felt after the failure of not succeeding and the humilitaion of having to start everything from the groun was guilt because my depression was nothing but expensive. This is fucked up in a way that makes me want to cry. This probably set up so much of the residual emotions I carried into this year. I remember just nodding and agreeing because there was so little of me that I couldn't think of anything better to say. Without even realizing I completely detached myself from him since then. Without even realizing I started to hate him, because I realized that no matter how charismatic he may be, my grandfather is a pig who constantly behaves like a spoiled little boy. He makes my grandmother cry for the stupidest reasons and he's the typical patriarchal lazy ass bastard. I turned eighteen this year (sot of two months after trying to kill myself) and my grandmother didn't go out with the rest of us because he had trashed her so hard she couldn't get off the couch. That day, she told me she was feeling tired like I used to. That was so fucked up I don't think I ever liked him again. Now I'm going to move to Australia and I'm mostly eager about leaving this house, and when I thought I'd seen the worst he shows me something even more disgusting. I'm bisexual. I've known this for a while, but last year I started coming out to friends and this year I've just stopped hiding. I wouldn't assume my family knows because no one ever talks about it, but recently I've found out that some of the things I share on Facebook or whatever reallly were seen by family members. Whatever. The other day, after a party, I invited my best friend to crash at my place because I had food and we could watch TV and smoke a little weed, which is really all that we do. We woke up at around lunch time, I just had my friend leave because my family is work and we wouldn't even be able to talk normally anyway, so I was just sparing the both of us. After he left, my grandfather told me not to bring any more friends to sleep over, which I never did because my family is shit, and when I asked him why he just said "because I said so". Later, when I was talking to my father he said it had something to do with me being bi and that my grandma told him she'd seen something on the internet or whatever. It just ruined me. Not only was I being outed without realizing but also discriminated against inside the house I live in. I say this because it's his house. When my dad started telling me that, he asked me to keep my voice down so my grandfather wouldn't hear it. And my grandma obviously didn't do anything because she's not stupid, so yeah, I'm bisexual living in a homophobic house and I never imagined how bad this feels inside. I'm so used to shutting down heteronormative friends or random guys at parties, I'm so good at telling it like it is when it comes to sexuality, but I'm so powerless here. My only option is to pretend like I'm straight.

 

So yeah, this is what's been eating at me. I have absolutely no desire to spend Christmas here, but I also feel so embarassed about having to ask someone else to spend it with them. I don't think I have any friends who won't be totally surrounded with family so one way or another I'll just have to spend the holidays thinking about it nonstop. I don't even know what to say. It's like I've always had to keep my identity and my family as separate things, and now I don't have that choice and if you were paying attention to the story you'll see that I'm not about to choose family over anything.

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