Welcome to my problem world!
Posting long texts online has always been kind of my thing. I never seem to fit in reality and I can more often than not open up to my keyboard than to an actual person, how come? Well, mostly because people always judge, they always come up with "solutions" to your problem without actually hearing you out or taking into consideration that you are your own person and not -especially in the case of family members- an extension of them.
Let's take things from the start, I come from an island in Greece, small place, small town, everyone knows each other and, if you don't know someone they most definitely know you or someone in your family so, they are biased, they already have an opinion about you, good luck trying to change their mind. Having two younger sisters what we all mostly are used to is they everyday chaos and noise of sharing a roof with a bunch of people. Not the scenario I would have picked out if I could actually write my own story from the beginning. Given the choice I'd love to have been born in a bigger city and I would gladly leave at least one of my sisters out of the equation and change my fathers mind about pets. I'd have at least two dogs, preferably pit bulls, and I'd have been a lot more better off career and mental-health wise.
Why am I saying that? Well, once again I feel trapped in this rock of an island, there seem to be no career opportunities here which most likely means I'd have to go away hell-knows-where to land a summer job and work my ass off non stop everyday for 6 to 7 months with no days offs and a shitty, nightmarish, bitch of a roommate again because I can never land a good one. Doesn't sound that good now, does it?
To make it all sound a little worse, the latest chapter in my life contains a complete luck of inspiration for the book I've been writing the past 3 years, a lot of anger and stress building up due to my current luck of employment (till the summer season begins at least), alcohol becoming my coping tools/mechanism, things being left always unfinished because I constantly feel like shit and to top all that, my mother's convinced I hate her just because she doesn't get the hint that I'm stressed, I feel like shit and I can't deal with being asked stupid things like "Did you wake up?" type of questions when I'm clearly standing wide awake in front of her for fuck's sake. In the meantime, when my sister is using the exact same sarcastic tone I use to answer such questions it's funny. It's only a problem when the words come out of my mouth!
And here's another thing, everything my bitch of a sister does is always considered awesome whereas I am the crazy one, the one who's short of a marble, the psycho, the one with anger issues. Well, imagine being 10, returning home after a 20 day stay at the hospital only to find out that this 8-year-old bitch of an idiot requires everyone's undivided attention now because she had to stay with our aunt and uncle while I was hospitalized in Athens. Newsflash! Our youngest sister had to stay with them too, she was only 4 at the time and had no problem, she was actually the mature one out of the duo! Continuing on about the bitch of a sister, she had the nerve to threaten me at school that she'd tell everyone why I had been hospitalized, nothing too bad but for some reason our parents had made it seem like the fact that I was diabetic and required regular insulin injections was equivalently bad with being a drug addict! Because what would the neighbors think! Medieval mentality at it's finest, one of the perks of living in a small town... Following up with this bullshit, the bitch started to take piano lessons, that made everyone see her as someone of great importance, at first i was happy she found a hobby, first and foremost she stopped picking on me, little did I know that from that moment on it was a crime for me to even think of trying to listen to one of my favorite CDs, the moment I put the disc in the player she popped up and screamed that it was time for her to practice the piano, after a few years of this shit going on, our youngest sister, who had also lost every right to listen to music of her choice because the queen had ruled that only her piano noise was allowed in the house, decided to take up guitar lessons. Good for her! Bad for me. Less time being subjected to piano torture, no chance to listen to prerecorded music, as soon as the piano stopped, the guitar took its place in noise-making. Enough is enough though, right? Right. So, I mention it to our parents that I want a chance to listen to music without needing to jam the headphones into my skull or listening to quality music with the wretched piano sounding as loud as it gets! Of course they came up with what they thought was the perfect solution "Why don't you also learn to play an instrument?" Yeah, right. They already new it's impossible for me to learn/read notes even if my life depended on it. But it was the bitch-centric solution as after our youngest sister took up playing the guitar she immediately forgot she was making her life hell as well.
That's the biggest example of why I can't stand the sight of her, her existence annoys the Hell out of me and I wouldn't give a rat's ass if she disappeared from my life... I vaguely remember a time I was happy... I was 2 years old and an only child. That and the 2 years I spent studying away from home. The moment I returned to this freaking island all the dark feelings that had built up to the point I almost sliced my wrists open in high school started to come back. It seems like I'm cursed to be stuck here forever to be misunderstood for every word I say simply because I am me. Maybe that bitter thought that's been stuck in my head ever since I was in preschool that I won't live to be 36 is not just a thought but a premonition, who knows, I still have 10 years for that but deep down inside I fell this is true...
Maybe one day someone will read this and understand, if they knew me, why I've built that wall around me, why I refuse to let anyone in, why my thoughts can be dark and twisted, why I am always angry, disappointed, ready to fight even when it's wiser to turn around and exit. Who knows, but, in case anyone stumbles on this blog and reads it, drop a line bellow, I always write things to be read, even if they are just rants so, yeah, let's talk it out, I need to see a reaction from someone I don't know, it's easier this way.
By the way...
Hello stranger! Welcome to my blog.
Posting long texts online has always been kind of my thing. I never seem to fit in reality and I can more often than not open up to my keyboard than to an actual person, how come? Well, mostly because people always judge, they always come up with "solutions" to your problem without actually hearing you out or taking into consideration that you are your own person and not -especially in the case of family members- an extension of them.
Let's take things from the start, I come from an island in Greece, small place, small town, everyone knows each other and, if you don't know someone they most definitely know you or someone in your family so, they are biased, they already have an opinion about you, good luck trying to change their mind. Having two younger sisters what we all mostly are used to is they everyday chaos and noise of sharing a roof with a bunch of people. Not the scenario I would have picked out if I could actually write my own story from the beginning. Given the choice I'd love to have been born in a bigger city and I would gladly leave at least one of my sisters out of the equation and change my fathers mind about pets. I'd have at least two dogs, preferably pit bulls, and I'd have been a lot more better off career and mental-health wise.
Why am I saying that? Well, once again I feel trapped in this rock of an island, there seem to be no career opportunities here which most likely means I'd have to go away hell-knows-where to land a summer job and work my ass off non stop everyday for 6 to 7 months with no days offs and a shitty, nightmarish, bitch of a roommate again because I can never land a good one. Doesn't sound that good now, does it?
To make it all sound a little worse, the latest chapter in my life contains a complete luck of inspiration for the book I've been writing the past 3 years, a lot of anger and stress building up due to my current luck of employment (till the summer season begins at least), alcohol becoming my coping tools/mechanism, things being left always unfinished because I constantly feel like shit and to top all that, my mother's convinced I hate her just because she doesn't get the hint that I'm stressed, I feel like shit and I can't deal with being asked stupid things like "Did you wake up?" type of questions when I'm clearly standing wide awake in front of her for fuck's sake. In the meantime, when my sister is using the exact same sarcastic tone I use to answer such questions it's funny. It's only a problem when the words come out of my mouth!
And here's another thing, everything my bitch of a sister does is always considered awesome whereas I am the crazy one, the one who's short of a marble, the psycho, the one with anger issues. Well, imagine being 10, returning home after a 20 day stay at the hospital only to find out that this 8-year-old bitch of an idiot requires everyone's undivided attention now because she had to stay with our aunt and uncle while I was hospitalized in Athens. Newsflash! Our youngest sister had to stay with them too, she was only 4 at the time and had no problem, she was actually the mature one out of the duo! Continuing on about the bitch of a sister, she had the nerve to threaten me at school that she'd tell everyone why I had been hospitalized, nothing too bad but for some reason our parents had made it seem like the fact that I was diabetic and required regular insulin injections was equivalently bad with being a drug addict! Because what would the neighbors think! Medieval mentality at it's finest, one of the perks of living in a small town... Following up with this bullshit, the bitch started to take piano lessons, that made everyone see her as someone of great importance, at first i was happy she found a hobby, first and foremost she stopped picking on me, little did I know that from that moment on it was a crime for me to even think of trying to listen to one of my favorite CDs, the moment I put the disc in the player she popped up and screamed that it was time for her to practice the piano, after a few years of this shit going on, our youngest sister, who had also lost every right to listen to music of her choice because the queen had ruled that only her piano noise was allowed in the house, decided to take up guitar lessons. Good for her! Bad for me. Less time being subjected to piano torture, no chance to listen to prerecorded music, as soon as the piano stopped, the guitar took its place in noise-making. Enough is enough though, right? Right. So, I mention it to our parents that I want a chance to listen to music without needing to jam the headphones into my skull or listening to quality music with the wretched piano sounding as loud as it gets! Of course they came up with what they thought was the perfect solution "Why don't you also learn to play an instrument?" Yeah, right. They already new it's impossible for me to learn/read notes even if my life depended on it. But it was the bitch-centric solution as after our youngest sister took up playing the guitar she immediately forgot she was making her life hell as well.
That's the biggest example of why I can't stand the sight of her, her existence annoys the Hell out of me and I wouldn't give a rat's ass if she disappeared from my life... I vaguely remember a time I was happy... I was 2 years old and an only child. That and the 2 years I spent studying away from home. The moment I returned to this freaking island all the dark feelings that had built up to the point I almost sliced my wrists open in high school started to come back. It seems like I'm cursed to be stuck here forever to be misunderstood for every word I say simply because I am me. Maybe that bitter thought that's been stuck in my head ever since I was in preschool that I won't live to be 36 is not just a thought but a premonition, who knows, I still have 10 years for that but deep down inside I fell this is true...
Maybe one day someone will read this and understand, if they knew me, why I've built that wall around me, why I refuse to let anyone in, why my thoughts can be dark and twisted, why I am always angry, disappointed, ready to fight even when it's wiser to turn around and exit. Who knows, but, in case anyone stumbles on this blog and reads it, drop a line bellow, I always write things to be read, even if they are just rants so, yeah, let's talk it out, I need to see a reaction from someone I don't know, it's easier this way.
By the way...
Hello stranger! Welcome to my blog.
