Detachment

I am up early today, and I just need to write. There are some thoughts that need ordering, and I feel as if I have to talk to SOMEONE. So this entry will be public.

I have come to realise that I need to take a step back from my family. As much as it hurts, I can’t keep trying to pretend and act and bend over backwards or stand on my head to extract tiny amounts of affection and acceptance. I am as I am, sometimes loud or domineering or obnoxious, sometimes obsessive, sometimes empathic, quiet and shy. I know I’m not easy to live with, not easy to love, not easy to understand. Heck, I often don’t understand myself! I’m facing a choice now, to continue my growth in life, or to go back. Going back would please my family a lot more. It would be more comfortable for them to have me eat and think and do what they do themselves. There would be less conflict. But I CAN’T. It’s not some weird hippy personal fulfilment trip! I have genuinely changed, expanded. To go back would only be pretending, crippling myself. It’s not worth destroying part of yourself just to get a little love.

Last night, when I came out of the shower, my sisters and mother were sitting around the kitchen table in one of their ‘whine and cry’ sessions. It was once more about me, about Dinah’s hypersensitivity to my… existence, really. She was telling me that I was the problem, I was her one big problem, all her issues were my fault. She accused me of deliberately undermining her confidence in our adolescence by telling her she was slow, she was stupid etc. Well, it was not deliberate. I was insecure,too, and depressed, being bullied, struggling with the secrecy and shame and self-hatred of an eating disorder. I didn’t have an easy time, either. I did tell her those things she accused me of, but not every day, not to crush her confidence, not deliberately. What she has apparently forgotten are all the good times when we talked and played together, the holidays and summer excursions. I in turn told her she’d had a bad influence on me, too. She was always giving me the impression that I was somehow huge, insensitive, dominant. I hated this image of myself and struggled for years to suppress myself, to be meek and quiet and gentle. I numbed my emotions with food. We were BOTH struggling, both unhappy and insecure, both hurting and negatively influencing each other. I am working hard to overcome my issues: this constant worry what others might be thinking about me, the constant tension of trying to please everybody. That doesn’t mean I want to become an insensitive egoist. I just need some healthy detachment. In contrast, I think she is looking for causes (and excuses, sometimes) for her issues. And I’m sorry, but I think she is giving my influence more weight than it had at the time. All the positive things that happende seem never to have existed.

What can I do? I can’t change her image of me. I can’t travel back in time and unsay the things that hurt her. I can’t just disappear. I am moving out in a month. I am trying to avoid doing the things that trigger her when she is around. I would like her to acknowledge that, to at least be civil to me! But she treats me as if I had the plague, and the only things I get from her are criticism and sneers. She is making my life at home hell, and I can’t do ANYTHING to change that. I was feeling so sad and utterly lonely last night, lying in bed trying to sleep and crying, while my family were in the kitchen, screaming, pulling me to pieces. Yes, I DO have faults. But they don’t see how hard I’m working, how much I’m holding back. They don’t see how much Dinah’s hypersensitivity is hurting me.They don’t see THEIR faults.

I realised that we are just not compatible. I seem to annoy them with everything I do, say or believe in. They seem unable to understand my point of view. For my own good, I need to detach from my family, and this is very painful. It makes me feel SO lonely. My mother has been very close to me these last few years. I told her almost everything. But there are some things I desperately want her to understand that she just can’t see. Dad, too, even more so. I think that Sissy, my youngest sister, understands me best. She can be very fair and see everybody’s point. And we sisters used to have good talks, too, before all this blog-diet-we-hate-you thing.

Maybe this whole situation is part of my development. I do realise most people my age have at least one good friend. And a lover. I only have my family and a few friends who are not close. Maybe, losing my family in this way will act as a catalyst and allow me to find other people, my kind of people. They must exist somewhere. ‘Kindred spirits’. As much as it hurts to realise your family doesn’t understand you and, in some cases, doesn’t even like you, it has already helped me to find my flat, it is making it easier to move out, and it might be the bitter tonic that I need to improve other areas of my life.

About annalienor

Lover of beauty, adult ballet student, deliberate creator wannabe.
This entry was posted in Family, Friends, Health, Law of Attraction, Milestone and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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