dewinged

Dammit. I tried. I really did.

I kept trying to focus on the positive things that happen in my life, so it won't fuck with my mood, and I can function on all the basic levels in a given day.

But, I came home, and I forgot my family is a constant reminder of why my real wish for Wednesday is that I don't wake up.

Ok, so I got home, and wa helping out a little to fix dinner when my brother calls, wanting to talk to Dad. My bro stops to yell at his daughter for being bad, then says to me "Hey, can't you just wait until /you/ have kids?"

Now, this means one of two things:
1) My brother is being deliberately malicious by rubbing my nose in all of the things he has that I never will, as it's been for all of my life, or
2) He was just acting out of ignorance, and is pretending that some things about me don't exist.

And I'm not sure which one hurts more.

And, Mom caught my sudden lousy mood, and asked. So, I told her what was said. And she laughed.

My mother laughed at me.

She does that a lot. Her and my sister do when I show any sign of being upset. I've tried talking about things, but they brush me off like I never said anything. I mean, this week will be further proof. This year, Mom will ask me what I want for my birthday, and when I want to have cake. I will tell her I don't want anything, and don't want cake, because I don't feel like celebrating my birthday. So, in the usual fashion with how she deals with things, my mom will ignore what I said and get me cake anyway.

My brother and my sister, and my whole fucking family. Three years, and not once did any of them ask what's wrong, or why....

I find myself trying to type this and not cry out of weakness. And I'm not holding up well. I don't trust anyone around to help if they catch me crying. If I fell backwards, I'd be passed up because there's something on TV, or the kids are being loud again.

Wednesday? My plans? Work, pick up my weekly comics, and maybe do an online scene or two. On my fucking birthday. I'm going to be 27, and that's the extent of what's going to happen. I hate it. I hate it so fucking much I want to scream. I should be celebrating.

I want a party. A real party, with real people and real booze and lots of real things going on. Or a real place to go, and...anything real, oh God please...anything real.