Family First

Today I woke up to being screamed at.  Screamed at for things I have absolutely no control over.

At first it was just screaming about how I am going on vacation instead of saving my money, even though I thought we got past this argument days ago.  It seems I yet again underestimated how pathetic my parents are.   Before I even opened my door to my room I was getting yelled at for something even more ridiculous.

My mother is upset and disappointed in me for being single, without love, on Valentines Day.  Because I wasn’t already depressed enough about it?  She began with her list of reminders, reasons I do not possess love.

You will never find a girl to love you because:

  1. You’re overweight.
  2. You’re too into video games.
  3. You’re way too into technology.
  4. You’re overly shy.

The list goes on, I just don’t feel like repeating it all.  Seriously though, I hate myself enough as it is.  Does she really know how much this amplifies my hatred for everything?  Every day I long to change even more as my self hatred grows ever deeper.

I know almost every single person will disagree with the rest of todays post, but here goes.  “Family First” is most every persons view point on family in the order of importance in life.  For me however it is quite the opposite.  Let me explain.

They do not care about me.  I do not care about them.  Even if they did, their reasons would be pathetic.  The only reason love for family exists is “because they are family.”  You can’t answer with the same thing I was questioning in the first place, it just doesn’t work that way.  There is no other reason other than that.  It is an obligated ‘love’, if we were not bound by the word family then you would have nothing at all to do with me.  I would be like any other person on the street, and we would judge each other for real reasons such as who we are as people.

That is my view on family.  Time to get specific.  If they I judged them as people, as I actually do, I would have no choice but to see what kind of miserable monsters you are.  My family gives me money frequently so people claim they must love me, that my thoughts are unfounded.  I believe that deep down they can feel it to, that this form of love is not real.  They poorly try to substitute that love with something they have, money.  They fail.

Most of my emotional problems stem from them.  My longing for acceptance.  My desire to find love.  My almost need for pain.  My fear of rejection.  My hatred.  They have made me this way.

Disagree with me but…

Real Love First.

-That One Person

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2 Responses to “Family First”

  1. If I lived there I would totally be your grilfriend and you know that. We would have been together since we were like 12 years old. haha I would never want to meet your family they sound as bad as my best friends omg. haha

    I love you ❤

  2. Well…

    You know that if you weren’t overweight, way into videogames, into technology too much, and overly shy – oh – and MALE, I might be into you too, De! Tell your mom that I added one to her less-than-adequate list! HA!

    (Sorry, my friend, I can’t help it. I just HAVE to add a little humor to your life, since you seem to be of such short supply lately.)

    Yeah. That sounds pretty horrid. Just because some people are capable of breeding, they think that they are qualified to be parents. Has your mother ever been to a psychiatrist? She could use some serious counseling, not to mention some pretty potent meds.

    There’s more to the family dynamic than that, but obviously, you’re in a pretty dark place at the moment and your invitation to disagree means only that you are in no position to actually consider other opinions. I can’t blame you. I’ve been there too. Wait until YOU’VE lived a thousand years or so. This’ll be nothing. You know how many inlaws I’ve had to deal with over that span? It’s a bitch!

    Hell, I still have to deal with the parents of both of my wives. Can you say “awkward”?

    (I’m not sure, but I think they consider me to be too old for their daughters, but REALLY! Try and FIND someone else my age who looks as good as I do in a pair of boxers and black socks! Ha! The things I can do with a little plumber’s putty and a band saw…)

    Anyway, if you ever want to talk in person, you have my number, Brother.

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