This song is on replay

Poeple talk to strangers, they tell strangers intimate things they would never tell their loved ones. Loving someone makes you vulnerable, it creates an expectation of kindness and understanding. And most often the parts of you that need most understanding are the ones that you don’t understand or accept for yourself. You need more from them than you need from yourself and more often than not they only know about you what they are willing to learn.

So let me tell you stranger, what I wouldn’t tell them tonight.

Being in this house, with my family, is the lonliest I ever feel. It’s like being slapped in the face, stabbed in the chest and lashed in the back with how alone and different and strange I feel. All I’ve been taught is that friends come and go and family is eternal. But I learnt the truth, friend come and go and family are never there. In this house I am exactly the same as I was in student digs but it’s worse because all you ever fucking hear is how this is my eternal life.

I will marry my father, become my mother and my kids will torture me exactly how I did my own parents.

Why in all that is in every universe and every dimension would I want that? I may as well not exist to my father. I don’t think we’ve ever had an unnecessary or impractical conversation. The man provides the money and even that I receive through the mother. We can go months without talking and it’s not like either of us are any less off by it. Who’s daddy’s little girl?

My older brother is just the most fucked up thing. I can’t even begin to explain it accept to say it’s confusing, and torturous and frankly he is the one person in my life apart who I wish I’d never met.

I obsessively care about my little one, mostly in reaction to the older one I think. I have to watch him become my older one and it kills me a little more every day.

And cliché of clichés, the mother. My mother gets more crazy religious every day. My only choice in life is have her mind or have my own. That’s not a decision, I tried being what she wanted and it tears me up. I ripped myself apart trying to be hers. I still blame my mother for that which should not be talked about and my biggest fear in life is that what happened to me could happen to a daughter of mine and my being too blind to see it. Or that my daughter could hate me as much as I hate her. She chose her religion over me.

These people cause me the most hatred and fear in my life, I’m happier without them. Having a family is the most enduring pain in my life. I don’t see how having my husband or kids is going to suddenly be better.

Yet somehow having this conversation instead of making things clearer makes me want to end all this here.