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Life's complexities
What are you supposed to do when so much in your life is incomprehensible that you feel like a mess beyond being helped? And when it is to the fault of your parents that this happens? While life doesn't usually make sense I can't get over the fact that I feel like I've been tortured by who I am and by who my parents are. Me, I'm usually the kid you see in class who is always doing their work, gets good grades, and is a pretty good person (though if you poke the beast inside you usually get more than you were asking for). But allow me to elaborate on this minor complication. I've always been a smart kid (even though I deny it when I was younger my mother insists I was) and I never got much attention when I was younger, in fact I didn't desire the attention from most classmates and teachers. But I always had my siblings then. I relied on them for my attention, teaching me, and as it was my oldest sister practically raised me. Slowly, all my siblings moved out, as they were all a great deal older than me. Two years ago the last moved out and I was left alone with my parents in the house. Of course it just so happens that that was to be my first year in middle school. Now that all is said and done, I can't think of a worse combination. First things get worse among my family. My dad is progressively becoming a worse person and my mother has little choice but to stay with him until a few things change so that she can leave him. Then of course I somehow came out of my shell during middle school and got to know a few people who are now very good friends to me. One seemed to have a magical touch to be able to help me even though they never consciously intended to as far as I can figure. One other was insisting that I try to become less closed up and release some of the vis grip I had built on my emotions. For some reason, I agreed. Following that I was such a mess that it was just enough for me to waver in and out of depression while managing to keep my grades up and hide this fact of mental distress from nearly everyone. The only person I simply could NOT hide it from, by conscious effort or not, was my friend who had that magical touch on me. So of course, I have kept in contact, if not close contact, with that person during the summer. But they don't know that I have been carefully avoiding mentioning my troubles that I only too often driven my to thinking about things such as suicide. Lucky I'm smart because its then that I know that no matter what I do, if I were to die more people than I ever thought cared would miss me. Now this is the problem that I face. I am not too proud to ask for help when I need it, but I have the worst problem of being so conscientious that I ALWAYS seem to think of how me talking to other people about my problems will effect them and I highly consider the likelihood that they will be busy, find my talking to them annoying or irritating, and possibly thinking less of my or pitying me for telling them what I know to be the truth of the matter. And as I was thinking last night, I realized that my parents always have a way out if they should so require it. But for me, I have no choice but to gut through everything. I'm underage, my father is a control freak, and I would never be allowed to live with any of my close friends and if I did so try to run off my father would have police looking for me before I could say go. As far as I have ever seen it, the friend I would most trust is my friend that has the inexplicable touch on me. They happen to be an adult, but they are the ones I most fear for inconveniencing. Comment if you have any suggestions and thanks for reading. If not, this is mostly just a way for me to get a few things off my chest so that I can get through the rest of the summer a little easier.
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