You know that feeling that you're unwanted? That you shouldn't be around and that everyone would be better off without you? Well to me that's not a feeling. To me its an everyday reality.
I never understand why people actually think being queer is a choice because being queer can be one of the worst things to happen to a person. Why would anyone choose to be so hated by everyone that self-harm has just become a norm? Why would anyone choose to be so lonely and ignored that crying is an everyday occurance. I wonder how many people know that I cry myself to sleep everynight. Its so hard; I just want to be loved and I actually can't name a single person who does love me. I'm a loser, I'm a loser with no life and a family that would be better off without me.
I have actually known for a while that I wasn't really apart of the family, that I just sort of existed. I tried so hard to make things better, I spent all my money of gifts, I retreated back into the closet and I tried spending more time with the family. I guess I thought that if I was this perfect child of their dreams maybe just maybe I'll be wanted and loved and everything would be okay. But you can't make people love you, you can't change their minds, you can't do anything.
Yesterday I kicked my sister in the face. She threw a bottle at me for simply mentioning my Auntie. She's always lashing out, whenever I swear, whenever I comtempete drinking with friends, whenecer I say something she decides she doesn't like. I live in fear of her, she's violent and aggressive. She hits my Mam too if my Mam feels self conscious about her weight. I know it seems harsh but I don't love my sister. I really really don't. We used to be close but how can you possibly love someone who hurts you all the time? So I guess this time something snapped inside me and I hit her back twice as hard. Well....I kicked her. I know violence is wrong and that yes I can have seriously hurt her but....that realisation that her life is valued more then mine hurt.
I'm not saying I was in any danger from the bottle but while living in our precious house my sister tried to push me down the stairs. I would have fallen had I not managed to grab onto the banister. My glasses had fallen off and I pulled a muscle and bruised my arm where I saved myself.
During that time my sister got none of the treatment I am getting. None of the threats of having a job removed, none of the threats of being made homeless, not being told that they will never feel the same about me again; in fact what's worse was they were more angry that I had told her she was dead to me after she tried to push me down the stairs then that she had tried to push me down the stairs.
I guess that is what is upsetting about this whole thing; I am being ignored and felt to cry while dealing with the realisation that my life is valued less then my sister's no matter what I try.
They say they I should apologise but I don't think I will. In fact I know I won't. I've never had one sorry of her so why should I bother? I don't care about being the bigger person, I don't even care about life anymore.
Earlier I filled a glass with blench. I was fully intent of drinking the whole thing but I didn't. My mother is having her birthday dinner tomorrow, no matter how much she hates me I can not bring myself to hate her or ruin her celebrations so I tipped the glass out.
I don't want to be here. What is the point if no one loves you? I guess I must be a hard child to love. I am a bastard, a child born out of wedlock to an overly religious Christian woman....I suppose I am a reminder of sin and mistakes. There's also the queer thing too....its no secret to those who read this blog that I experience a lot of discrimination in my own home. Maybe its a combinated thing, maybe its just one of them, maybe its because I am a twice college drop out who caught fired from my first job. There are so many reasons I suppose someone could hate me. It could even be that I threw away Christianity and converted to Wicca.
Its a shame because I was once offered to move in with my Auntie but I turned her down. I turned her down because I loved my mother and I hoped I was wrong and that she loved me too. I guess I was wrong....I was right when I knew she didn't love me. I would give anything to move out now. I hate it here. I really really hate it.
I won't talk for much longer; my laptop is too expensive to fix and I am using Blogger's phone app. I don't like using the app, I am paranoid about spelling mistakes and grammar mistakes and that I am writing an ramblimg mess that no one can understand but I just needed to open up. My blog is the only one I can turn too.
I hate myself. I really do. What is so wrong with me that everyone hates me? This is why I laugh when people say being queer is a choice. No one chooses this. No one.
