I’ve mentioned to my parents to go move where one of my sisters lives. She’s far more attached than I am (I didn’t tell them that part), and I think they would like it there, besides.
My aunt said that she thinks that the umbilical cord between her and her mother (my gram, who passed away a few years ago) is still attached.
For me and my parents, it is not.
It burned off.
I love my family, I do, but I am no longer attached to them at all. Every time I try to be it never works, I run into a wall of flame. The fire comes from me, the ice comes from them, so I put up that wall, again and again. Something more gets burned away, every time, and I am left hollow.
This last altercation has left me in bed for two days.
I called out for help, to my mother, about someone who’s been taking advantage of my sympathy for a long time, and I was scared, and not feeling safe. My mother bulldozed over that, only seeing ‘friends! company!’ as she always does, and not seeing me. I have always been her ‘project’. When my life sucks it is automatically her fault, and I have to reassure her.
I really like where I live, but at two hours away from my parents it’s still too close. If they won’t go away and leave me alone, maybe I will.
I am living in three layers right now. At the core my brain is clear and I am passionate and true. However, the other two layers cause me difficulty. There is my depression, one, and my body itself. The improvement in my depression over the recent past, however, is that I am acutely aware of it, that it is not a part of me, that it is a disease. Before I started weaning off the medication it was a murky mess and it was all my fault and I was stuck in muck and mire.
The second thing I am running into is my body, which is decrepit and decayed from years of nonuse. I am fat, (I honestly was okay with this until quasi recently, when new med experiments, before I started going off of them, caused me to explode) and my muscles are constantly in pain. The transgender thing does not help with the body thing either, with feeling detached for both reasons. The trans thing, and the ‘body/depression, what are you doing? move!’ thing. The depression and the body thing are a deadly combination. It is like I have a pile of homework, with no idea where to start, and so I don’t start at all, and don’t move towards fixing the situation. So really still in a state of useless muckness but now I’m pissed about it.