Family

They used to be my hell, but now I'm so dependent on them, they've become my life support.

The only reason I'm still living is because my family can't handle pain well and I can't give them the ultimate pain by taking my own life from them. They put me on a pedestal at one point. They want to believe that I'm still their innocent baby but I don't know how to be that person anymore. I've raped me of my innocence. If they knew what I've done to myself they'd kill me. Most probably not literally, but well, actually, they would kill themselves with guilt and make themselves believe that they're responsible for me turning out the way I have. They're the only ones keeping me alive and keeping me sane -- they're essentially my life support and they have no idea. In turn, I have no idea how to rely on them like normal kids can rely on their families. I've tried so hard to be independent and that's all I know now.

The other day my sister called me "baby". She hasn't called me that in years. When she called me that I could tell that our relationship was on the mend. I should be happy but it hurts like hell because I know one day I'm going to make some stupid mistake and ruin it. I'm so scared I'm going to lose them again, and I'm so scared that now, as I'm becoming much older and rapidly becoming an "adult", I'm starting to be more dependent on them and treat them as the family I should have been treating them as for years.

We're all strangers to each other. We all want to think we know each other, during certain periods we think we do know each other but as we're all getting older and moving in different directions in life we're just not the people we used to be. I've seen it coming. We all saw it coming. Some of us tried to prevent it, some of us are still trying to prevent it but it's still happening.

I remember a few years ago when my cousin was at the peak of her depression, she was heavily reliant on her mum. She basically said you never realise just how insignificant your friends, boyfriend, and "mates" are until you hit an all time low, because that's when you see just who is there for you and for her it was her mum. When I was at the peak of my anorexia I had my family telling me off because they were terrified, I saw that I was the only one there for me because no one understood what I was going through. This made me despise them. After everything that happened this year, I now understand that no one will ever properly understand the experiences of others and so there's no point in me trying to communicate my problems to my family -- they're just intolerant of the whole concept of mental illness. When I realised this I decided to do things in a style more appropriate to my family and I gave myself some tough love and tell myself to get over everything. Although this helped with redeveloping my relationships with them as well as helping me to "just get on with life" (as my mum and sister say), it hasn't helped me with my problems as an entirety.

I always wished my family would be more sensitive to my problems. Thank fuck they aren't. When I tried to compensate for their negligence of my mental and emotional health, I just made my problems worse. When I used what they taught me throughout life which was essentially "just get over it", I started getting over it.