Go through a little depression in this household and all hell breaks loose. God forbid I tell them when I am getting a little hypo. I swear, I am not allowed to be a human here anymore. I never knew it was such a battle to be yourself. Never in my life have I met so much resistance in being exactly who I am. It’s enough to drive someone insane and send them back to an institution. Change a little for the better, and that is too much for anyone to handle.
If I am not perfect in their eyes, I am a piece of shit. If I am not perfect, I am not worthy of talking to. If I am not perfect, I deserve to be out on the streets. If I am not perfect, I don’t deserve to be in the family.
Perfect by whose standards, anyway?
No matter what I do, it is wrong. Be yourself, but not too much. Clean, but not that way. Speak, but not too loud. Don’t talk, but speak up I can’t hear you. Drive, but not too far. Laugh, but not too loud. Stay sober but don’t talk about it. Relax but not too much. Read, but not all day. Write, but not like that. Live, laugh and love….but not in such grand ways.
I sometimes believe that people would be happier if I didn’t exist at all.