Swelltide.

I have been thinking a lot the last few days, about everything. The course of my life, and where my life seems to be going. Childhood. School. Money. My relationship. Everything.

I've been in a really weird mood. Unstable, and off-kilter. I messaged a friend the other night, and completely broke down. I just lost it for about about ten minutes, which is kind of pathetic considering that there weren't any real words exchanged. I wanted something from him, and I still don't know what. I just know that I didn't get it.

This brings me to revelation one. No one really cares. Everyone has this idea of who you are, which is only meaningful in a context to other people in terms of who they are. If what you are going through, if your experience isn't immediately relateable to someone; they don't care. I don't mean that in a way of they willfully choose not to care, but more of in a way because their experience isn't like you're own, they do not understand it. Empathy takes real effort, a kind of effort that I am not sure that most people are capable of. If it does not effect them, impact them, affect them-- do not expect a reaction.

We are alone. This is an ideal that I struggle with constantly. No matter how you frame it, who you surround yourself with, who you are involved with-- you live your life by yourself. What you go through, you go through on your own. Maybe you have people around you to talk to, to bounce ideas off of, to gain a kind of perspective-- but life is yours to lead and only you.

What a terrible, and equally empowering thought, when you really think about it. So, why then do I allow myself to be so influenced by the past? Not by the things that happen now, but by the things that have already happened? I don't really understand it.

Since I am being honest, tonight. My sister is pregnant. I am excited for her. The freak-out that I exxperienced the other night has everything to do with this. And, it is kind a long story...

My mother was sexually abused when she was younger. Because of this, and maybe some other things (she says as little as I do), she is emotionally unavailable. I cannot have a serious conversation with her without her breaking down, crying.... I cannot talk to her about the things that other kids can seem to talk to their parents about. And my sister. My mother has taken a kind of pride in 'protecting' her. Including, borrowing money to put my sister through school, buying her a car, talking to her every day.The kinds of things that a parent should be doing. Only she doesn't, for me or my brother.

And so, the announcement took me by surprise and threw me for a loop. I have been like this since. Full of energy and anxiety. Questioning everything. I hate it.

When something big happens in life, I always seem to do this. Evaluate everything. Question. Why me?! I am getting kind of sick of it. Sadly, I no longer think it healthy for me to expect my parents to be parents. I will never get from them the kind of things that I want. Not material things. Support. A real, working relationship. I just want to know they give a shit, and I never will.