Swelltide.

I want to move. I want a break.

I've had a pretty terrible day. Work stuff, which isn't really important. Or, shouldn't be. I've been promised training and advancement into a direction that I want to go... Only, to find out today that it won't happen. Not really a surprise, but I was hopeful... Today, was a completely disorderly day. Jerked around for no reason, and wasted a lot of time. Also, not really a surprise...

My birthday is this weekend. My sister is coming into to town... and my birthday has become a family gathering-- that has nothing to do with my birthday. I haven't committed to going, and I won't. If it were my brother's birthday or my sister's birthday, we'd be having dinner. We would be hanging out.

I'm done with commitments. I am done with being an afterthought.

I need away from my parents. For a while. Years, maybe. I need to let go of all the resentment I've been feeling and I need to feel like I'm getting somewhere. It is all about perceptions, apparently-- which I 'learned' in therapy during my last session.

Everyone always asks why I don't just talk about it. Whenever I speak up-- it always becomes somehow, that I am being selfish. The truth is, my parents I think, think that emotions are indulgent. They don't allow themselves the freedoms of being so... selfish? angry? I don't know. But, it doesn't work. Whenever I try to have a serious conversation, it is turned around on me. It becomes reflective of them and I don't want to hear it anymore. I don't have to deal with it anymore. I don't have to buy into the bullshit of 'they did the best with what they had...'

Crap.

Swelltide.

At work, sitting on a picnic table and waiting. In a reflective mood, and have been for several days. I've been tired also. Quiet. Impatient.

To grandma's house we go. Road-trip with the family this weekend. To be honest, I don't want to go. I have resentment bubbling up inside me-- and I am worried that I might have one of those moments where I am a little too honest with people. How sad, that a person should worry about honesty. With their family.

I am back in therapy, due in part (a large part) to making the same poor decisions. I feel less equipped to deal with lingering emotional things this go-round. I don't really want to deal with the same ghosts. Only, my girlfriend is onboard-- and equally tiresome is moving backward.

Swelltide.

Coming out of a low that lasted the last few days. Told everyone I had a cold, again. I always think people want an explanation as to why I am reserved, or quiet. Not my usual self (what ever that is anymore). But, no. People don't really pay as much attention as we think they do. Or, want them to? Unless, of course, it is the job I'm talking about. They want to know everything. A doctor's note. A three page essay.

My sister and brother visited with the kids. We had dinner with my parents and I spent a good deal of time with the baby, which lifted my spirits a little.

Not going into work today. Which also lifts my spirits a little. Though, I am likely to be stuck at home while my girlfriend stays over for her job tonight. It is trying to snow and is supposed to get worse this afternoon.

It will be a video games, guitar and watch a movie kind of day.

Swelltide.

Class C flip out last night. Could not sleep and was getting frustrated. Punched the pillow a few times. Tossed and turned all night, and wanted to scream or put my fist through a wall, which I couldn't do because there were kids asleep downstairs.

I have been in a terrible mood the last couple days, just wanting some space; some peace and quiet. Some privacy. The ability to walk around in my underwear, if I wanted to.

Our roomate has taken it upon herself to clean up the basement with the intention to put the kids down there at night, which I learned about from my girlfriend before heading to bed. I tell them, "You can't do that." It is damp and there is mold. The renovation inspection says it is not liveable space. There is a reason that no one else has a basement in this area. It is just too damp... She says, "Well we need to figure something out."

No. She needs to figure something out. Like, her own house. Like not sitting around all day causing drama with the kid's dad on Facebook. Like focusing on what is best for here children. I would want better if it were my own kids but what do I know? Sleeping on an air matress...

Again, I find myself in a situation where I feel like I can't say much. When I cannot sleep, it would be nice juat to lay down on my own damn couch.

That is where I'm at.

Swelltide.

I am going to apologize for grammer and spelling ahead of time. The laptop is broken. Again. Having connectivity issues with the desktop. The timing could have  been worse. At least the semester is over. My "curse" at work. Can't seem to hold on to anything of value. Broke my guitar the other day. Red-ring on the xbox. Dvd player not working...

Anyway. Anyway. Still off the meds. Don't have the money for a doc visit or for the medication at the moment. And, I won't, not for a while. On a different note, had a long conversation with dad the other day, about bipolar, school, life. He's been the only person, other than my girlfriend, who has expressed any kind of concern or interest about it. He took a day off to hang out, which we haven't done in a long time. I feel so grateful for having a father like him.

I wish that I could afford the medication. The girlfriend is getting pretty tired of my waking up at two in the morning. The anger. The losing things. The not talking for days at a time.

The next few months-- work. See if I can work enough to not have to borrow so much money for school. We'll see how it goes.

Swelltide.

Likely this will be a long and rambling post, for which I apologize in advance for those who continue to read.

I am still off my medication. I still have not found a new psychiatrist. I still have not put in the effort to meet with a new doctor, to discuss cheaper medication. I am still off of my meds. This seems to be the best way to start, to frame how I've been feeling or thinking lately. Maybe manic. Maybe depressed.

My sister arrived for a few days to visit with my parents-- and to announce her pregnancy. My mother seemed usually ecstatic (concerning any news that involves my sister). The guilt I have now... My immediate reaction aside from envy, was the thought that I cannot remember the kind of reaction from my parents when my brother announced that him and his girlfriend were pregnant-- five years ago. My mother standing beside my sister, glowing. Her dear daughter, pregnant... I was baffled, happy for my sister, and equally furious.

There exists no concern about my well-being, or my brother's. There has not been any discussion about my mental state beyond that initial conversation that I had with mom about being diagnosed with bipolar, beyond  a few passing remarks about how I 'seem' so much more 'stable' now. How difficult it is not to take such remarks as a kind of insult. She does not know, of course, that I haven't been taking my medication.

My mother, who was sexually abused as a girl, never seeking professional help. Knowing her, she thinks that this is a kind of testament to inner strength. Getting through life with all this baggage, on her own... I think it is kind of pathetic. She looks down on me, I think for having gone to counseling. She looks down on me for actually trying to deal with the issues and hang-ups that I have.

She made a remark, while we went out for lunch a few days ago, about a cousin of mine who once went on a national TV show for being promiscious. "A girl sexually active at such a young age, it is a sign of sexual abuse." I asked her who in the family... "I don't want to get into it." Why? What a white-trashy, southern thing to do. We must keep quiet about those things. We must never talk about those things.

Whatever. I am not like my parents. At all. I want to think about everything. I don't think there are things within a family you should not talk about. And, that is the ironic thing. My mom is fine discussing other people's problems. Never her own.

My brother shows up to the house today, probably stoned. It was a lunch organized for his birthday. My mom had some things to say about it. My sister had some things to say about it. His 'drug' use seems to confuse them.

One of these days, I will remind my mother that while she was ever vigilant in my sister's affairs, growing up she could care less about what my brother and I did, so long as it didn't involve court or the police. I will remind her that my brother's real father never has expressed interest in him. Never sends so much as a birthday card. My brother, who has been described as 'willful' wasn't interested in school until you suddenly decided, when he was seventeen that it was unacceptable that he didn't care if he graduated from high school. Never mind that you could care less the other sixteen years.

God! The anger. The resentment. The pity that I feel for my parents. Living here, so close to them is a mistake. Something that I need to think about....

Swelltide.

Still, no medication. I have attempted to contact the shrink, a few times, and haven't gotten a call back. Has everything to do with me not having insurance at the moment, I'm sure. Figures. I have been fairly well. Busy, but still fighting with myself to get things done. I procrastinate, and it seems harder and harder to get myself motivated. To study. To clean. To do what needs to be done. We went for a night drive last night and inwardly I was fighting the urge to be at home. I manage to do it. Just seem to fight myself along the way.

Went up to the house to visit with mom and dad for a bit, tonight. Which was okay. Mom and the girlfriend started talking about the mother of my nephew. Apparently she called mom and started talking about her daughter, who is no relation. Being combative. Being difficult. Teenage stuff. A girl that my mom has knocked since she split with my brother. Suddenly, mom is defensive about this girl-- who is completely self-absorbed. Immature. Overly-dramatic. Probably not a great mother.

Now, I have made a lot of progress on the family front, but with my parents-- thinking about parenting in any way gets me going on this semi-obsessive cascade of... rawness, emotion. Something. I guess that is what it takes to get into my mother's good graces. Seeking her to be motherly. Allowing her to feel superior in some way? Reaching out? Of course, mom would be defensive to this absurd girl. They are a lot alike.

She, mom, is such an emotional child. I feel guilty for even putting it that way. Granted, she has been through a lot of shit, and I acknowledge that but she refuses to. She refuses to deal with it in any way. When I went to her, told her about being bipolar (like other big talks that we've had) she just shut down. She doesn't know how she really feels at any given time. This is has been an enormous rift between us. I don't feel as though I can approach her with emotional stuff. Partly, because I don't think she would really understand it and partly because I feel like she doesn't really deserve it. What a terrible thing to say about your own mother...

Which, is part of a much longer story. My father? He is the overly-devoted husband. Passive. Peace-keeper. Bread-winner. I'm not a kid anymore. The truth is neither of them really owe me anything. Other than maybe an honest conversation, which is unlikely to ever happen.

I think that the healthiest thing that I could do for myself, and for my girlfriend, is to get away from it. Get away from being made to feel obligated, guilty and blah blah blah. I already feel a little better, just writing about it.

Swelltide.

Had dinner with the family the other night. The first time all of us have gotten together in a long time. Just mom, dad and the kids. I was so full of energy and had been feeling fuzzy, alternating between anxious and hyper for most of the day. Some woman at the table next to ours made some comment about every family having someone they just couldn't take out in public. It didn't bother me at the time. I just chuckled and didn't think about it. But, I've been thinking about it since. I am still not accustomed to calling this 'mania.' My girlfriend had noticed the other night when we went out that I was more hyper than normal, and was little too free with my money.

I have given up on the notion of being like other people. Sometimes, it doesn't seem fair. Living with the up-and-down. Sometimes not having the drive to get out of bed on time. Being overly excitable.  Being so full of energy that I can't hold it all in. Most of the time, I don't have any interest in being 'normal.'

Then, I think about what this is going to do for me in the long-run. Having to explain why my work performance has not been what it normally is. Having to make some excuse for why I am running late, again. Having those people close to me wondering about my mental-state. Living with the fear that I might not be able to make the kind of friendships and relationships that I want, knowing people don't really understand. I still don't fully understand.

I probably should make an appointment soon, get back on the meds.

Swelltide.

So, it is out to the family. I am bipolar. I have told my parents, my brother and my sister. A couple of friends. My girlfriend knows, of course-- and her parents. Everything has changed in the last year.

I have started school again, and have essentially left a job that I hated. Though, I stop in and say hello. Work a few hours, and then disappear for a week or two. I wish that I was doing better in school, but what can you do really? I have no regrets up to this point, with the only exception being that I wish I had more time to dedicate to everything. Studies. Family. Work. Music. Writing. Everything...

I don't yet regret telling my parents.

My girlfriend and I sat down with them last night to talk about rent, and it went really well. I need to stop assuming the worst from people-- one of the many things that I have learned about myself. I am a pessimist. We have cut a deal for the duration of me being in school, which is one less thing to worry about. Now, I can buckle down and spend the time on my studies that I've needed to dedicate all along, without the pressure of working as much as I can.

So, things-- for now, are well. Except for chemistry. Hah. I am doing what I can and for now, that is all that I can ask of myself. Everything seems to be working out.

Swelltide.

Still sleepless. Up late last night but, at least with the time change I won't have so much trouble waking up early tomorrow. Earlier anyway.

THE conversation with the folks tonight. We will see how that goes. I am tired of feeling anxious about it, worrying about it and thinking about it. I don't know what to expect, won't be surprised by anything that happens and will be glad that it is over. Get to move on-- here or elsewhere. Put school first, regardless of where we live. My only hope is that it doesn't damage the relationship that I have with my parents permanently. Which, is a possibility.

Talked to my aunt last night online about being bipolar. Brings the personal tally of people I have told up to five or six. She was kind enough to pass along some advice-- though, I suspect there are others in the family with bipolar, she is the only other one formally diagnosed. She is very open about it. I admire her for that.

Spoke with my academic adviser about my grades and the next semester. I may be downgrading my degree, depending on how the rest of the semester goes. Which is fine. I am glad that I have that option, and am still able to end up with a degree in the field that I want. I have been feeling so guilty about not doing better in school, with all the time that I've dedicated and with all the effort that I've put into it. The debt that I have accumulated to go. All of the sacrifices that I've made to make it happen.

Swelltide.

Maybe... Maybe if I were only taking one or two class without labs. I don't know... I feel like going back to school was just a pipe dream.

I have been so down on myself, and been so focused on the fact that I haven't been doing that well at school that it makes it all that much harder to focus, to study. I mean, I can barely get myself out of bed on time, which prior to going back to school was affecting my performance at work. I don't have to worry about that now because I haven't been working as much as I should (or need to). I barely show up at work at all, and they have actually been far more supportive of me than I ever imagined that they would be.

The mixture of frustration, guilt and anger that I feel about everything. I have borrowed all of this money to make it happen and I can't really force myself to do well. I have put my girlfriend in the position of earning most of the money and being the core financial support for us both. I have been passively avoiding my parents because I 'owe' them rent and money that I have borrowed. And, then I get pissed off with myself because none of this should have ever happened. It was a bad idea blindly leaping back into school, of blindly renting a place from my parents-- knowing especially how they act and deal with things-- AND  now having the bipolar monster on my back.

Being optimistic always seems to get me in trouble.

I was so worked up last night, that I rolled out of bed at one in the morning and sat down on the couch to do breathing exercises. If only that were enough.

I am not organized. I am not focused. I am poorly adjusted to being a student, a worker or a human being. I think my girlfriend's doctor was right in saying that I am not good for her. What a thing to admit to yourself-- that you aren't good for the people you love. I am a coward. I am incapable of saying how I truly feel-- to save people the hurt of my opinions, even though there are only a handful of people around me that give a damn about how I might be feeling.

I hate myself sometimes, and hate myself for hating myself. What do you do with that? I desperately need to grow up, but I don't know how...

Excerpt

"Like any other serious illness, bipolar disorder affects not only the person who suffers from the disease but family, friends and colleagues as well."

From Bipolar Disorder; A Guide for Patients and Families by Francis Mark Mondimore, M.D.

Swelltide.

Three tests coming up this week. Haven't been studying like I should. Seems like an easy thing, right? Just sit down and start... Well, I have gotten most of my homework out of the way. All that is left is to study.

I have felt immeasurably isolated lately. My parents have stopped by a few times to say hello. My girlfriend is home again. But, when she's here she is asleep mostly. Or, I am working on homework. Trying to study. I don't really talk to anyone at school. It is just like being at work-- making small talk but not really clicking with anyone, and most of the people I talk to, I don't really care for (or care about).

I told my brother, only the second person in my family yet, that I am bipolar. His response was, "Oh, for real?" Then went on to talk about a video game he had been playing. My mother is not the only person in my family who is emotionally unavailable. Everyone in my family keeps this emotional distance from everyone else. I hate it. My brother. My sister. My dad and I get along really well but it is a very rare thing to talk about personal matters in a meaningful way.

So, I have done as my girlfriend wanted me to, and broke it to mom, who has undoubtedly talked to dad about it, and I've told my brother-- and here I am still, without any kind of emotional support whatsoever. It isn't surprising to me at all. Frustrating, infuriating, disappointing. Not surprising. I just want someone to give a shit.

I have a hard time, sometimes, with this kind of thing. I have felt so detached from everyone for so long, that I tell myself, maybe people aren't really being distant, maybe it is you. With people in general, this is true. Not with family. When you tell a sibling something like that, they should be concerned, right? When you summon the courage to actually admit something like I have to your parents, the response should be more than 'Oh.' I know that mom has said something to dad about it, but he hasn't said a word to me. My whole family is emotionally unavailable-- distant.

I try hard not to be cold-- not to be like them.

The girlfriend and I have a conversation coming very soon with mom and dad. We're basically going to tell them that we can't afford to rent from them anymore, and that they need to help us out or we fond somewhere else to live. Hah. This was what we discussed in the therapy session a couple of weeks ago. I don't think that mom, or dad, really understand how difficult they make things, how much unnecessary stress that they cause sometimes without even meaning to. I am not optimistic that this conversation is going to go well. If we end up moving out, having to find another place-- if this ends up damaging the relationship that I have with my parents, at least I am not really losing much. Also something that we talked about in therapy.

My girlfriend has been taking Xanex and Prozac, with much improvement. She hasn't had any panic attacks, but she has been sleeping a lot. She's lost a lot of weight. I am more than a little worried-- and now I regret getting her involved with my family. I wasn't a good idea. I know that my being bipolar, and us living out in the middle of nowhere hasn't helped her at all, but I also know that living and dealing with my parents hasn't helped her either. Neither of the two of us have been happy for a long time. I feel extremely guilty sometimes. It is such a strange thing, too-- we love each other so much, but everything around us just seems collapse inward on us. We can't catch a break.

My insurance has finally lapsed. My medication, now out of pocket, will be about a hundred dollars a month. Just another thing that I can't really afford, but can't afford to go without. I would make an appointment with my psychiatrist to talk about more inexpensive options, but she charges a hundred dollars (for fifteen minutes), that I can't really afford. Going to do some looking around on the web and see what kind of deals I can find. Make an appointment with my doctor and talk to him maybe instead.

Well. I guess I should get back to my studies.

Swelltide.

My girlfriend and I had a crisis meeting with my therapist yesterday. We all talked about the living situation. Stress. Being ill all the time. How hectic everything is for us right now. And, school. So much has been thrown in our path. We're both dealing with a lot.

For my girlfriend to be able to talk about things, and someone not to dismiss how she feels or make her  feel crazy. For someone to offer the kind of support, and to suggest the kind of things that she had been saying, feeling and thinking for so long-- she really needed it.

Here I am, in this position where I have so much to do, and so much to focus on, that I can't offer the kind of support that she needs. She keeps saying that she doesn't want to come home. I know that, in part, it is because I can't be there for her in the way that needs me to be. The guilt I feel for that. The one person in the world who means the most to me, who has been there for me even at the times when I didn't deserve it...

Her anxiety is better. Her IBS, as the doctor calls it, really isn't. The therapist believes, as I do, that it is stress induced. Since we've lived over here, both of us have been sick almost constantly. Sleeping a lot.  Wanting to be left alone. Not eating like we should be, or taking care of ourselves like we should be. She is depressed. Dealing with stress. And, it is taking a toll on her health.

We've dealt with a potential law suite, my almost being laid-off, my car breaking down. Refurbishing this place that was supposed to be ours, that was supposed to be cheap, that was supposed to be a retreat. Instead, we're paying more, dealing with things not being fixed and the appliances breaking down-- and getting none of the things that we wanted. It is an hour away from anything, so we're dealing with a much larger expense in gasoline. It is dark, and musty. Our basement is full of damp and bugs. It isn't our home, just some place that we rent. Mom has done her best to remind us constantly of whose place it really is. And, I have dad coming in whenever he pleases to get tools or furniture out that should have gone before we moved in.

None of this is right, fair, or just. We were expected to put in all of this free labor into a place that turned out to be nothing that we wanted. My girlfriend's parents donated all of this flooring early on, because my parents were selling this as a wonderful opportunity for us. And we've ended up paying much more than what we thought we were going to, and doing a lot of the touch-ups ourselves. I don't  like thinking of this way about my own parents, at all. But, we got screwed. And now, the girlfriend wants to move out, because of the way we've been treated and because of my mother's personality... and I am in this terrible position of having to potentially sever ties with my parents forever, or continue putting up with things the way they are.

I know, when we have the conversation about moving-- that it will be the end of any relationship with my mother. I can be branded as a selfish child who is ungrateful for all the things that I've been given. And that will be that. I will talk to my dad here and there, get some mail from him once in a while and see them on Christmas without any actual involvement as a family.

Everything here seems to revolve around my mother's emotional needs. Everything has always revolved around my mother's emotional needs. She is so jumbled and so tangled emotionally, that everything around her, must be complicated. She is bitter, and negative. She refuses to deal with it or to talk about it. It is something I have talked about in therapy almost every visit. I expect my mom to be a mom. To offer the kind of support, caring and concern that a mother should. But, she can't. When I had the conversation with her about my being bipolar-- it was the same as any serious conversation that I have ever had with her. I approach her almost like she is a child. I have to be very careful about what I say, and how I say it. Then, everything becomes about her. How unhappy she is. How she never has been happy. How she has dealt with certain things. It is her way of acknowledging what I am going through while at the same time telling me that she can't be counted on for any real support.

That is what is always comes down to. She wants to help, maybe, but can't because she deals with her own shit. Her own shit that she doesn't like to think about because it scares her to death. I talked to her about going to talk to a shrink, but she won't do it. It scares her to much. "If you start where do you stop..." I couldn't say anything because there wasn't anything that I could say that would actually help. What needs to be said and probably never will is, "If you don't want to help yourself mom, I can't make you, but I need you to be a parent. I have always needed you to be a parent." My dad, who I used to have so much respect for, who I still have a lot of respect for... I pity them. Even this makes me feel guilty. What child should pity his parents?

It was a terrible idea renting from my parents.

The plan at this point, is to have several plans. We're going to talk to my parents about needing to live here for either really cheap or pay no rent at all. The plan then, if this doesn't work, is to live with my girlfriend's parents for a few months to save money and get a place closer to school and her work. This is probably what we've needed to do in the first place. If we can't do that then we are going to move to some hole-in-wall place short-term until we can figure things out. We probably qualify now for a rent controlled apartment. I am honestly hoping that my parents don't want this to happen. It would be easier then for us to move on. What happens if they say that they will help us out, and we continue to be unhappy here?

I have enough to do, that I don't honestly believe that I can go on this way-- and keep up with everything. Working as much as I can. Commuting two hours every day. Spending every spare moment that I have studying, and now trying to catch up on all of the things that I need to know but haven't done well on. Reading. Homework. Lab reports. Tests. Keeping the house straight. Trying to clean and organize. And, all of the other things that go along with day to day life-- taking care of my car, making sure the animals are feed. Getting in some exercise. I may have taken on too much. Now, we may be moving. Now, I have all of this crap to deal with that should have been dealt with a long time ago.

Never again will I put us into a situation like this without first considering all of the details. There were no expectations going into moving here. There wasn't much of a conversation about how much rent was going to end up being or what we were going to be responsible for in the end. My mom is pushing for us to sign a two-year lease, and it isn't going to happen. I don't know if I can stay even for a few more months.

Swelltide.

My girlfriend and I met up in town yesterday to talk, to relax and to spend a little time together. She is still at her mom's house, and probably will be for a while. We went to the book store, got some coffee and sat outside, smoking and talking. Even considering how things are for us right now, it was nice. Reminded me of when we were dating, and acting cool. We used to do stuff like that all the time.

We talked about everything. How bad her anxiety was or is. How bad her depression is. How some things have to change. She isn't happy, being where we live. She feels isolated and the house makes her feel claustrophobic. There is no room, no storage and the space that we have is being taken up by the boxes. Almost everything we own is still in boxes, and we have nowhere to store things or to put things. She wants to move. She wants to be near things to do. She doesn't want it to take an hour to get home anymore, and all of this is causing her a tremendous amount of stress.

Not to mention, having to support me. Having to make sure that I am eating, and getting on my case about not smoking so much. Dealing with my moodiness. Helping me to find things that I've misplaced. Dealing with my periods of insomnia, and not sleeping because I am not sleeping. She feels guilty for even feeling this way. I understand, completely.

The guilt! The guilt that I feel for causing everyone around me more hardship than what they deserve. So, I isolate my emotions, because I don't want to burden anyone with my ups and downs. It isn't fair to anyone, my bipolar affecting them. I don't reach out and I do my best to keep everything to myself. But, this isn't fair to her. She feels like, because I haven't disclosed being bipolar to anyone that she has become my only support. Being there for me is a burden that I've made her carry alone.

I've never thought of it that way.

And now, we're in this place where she doesn't want to live-- that we're renting from my parents. I am faced with disclosing my diagnosis in the hopes that they will become more supportive. To help out a little financially. Especially with me being in school now.

What a touchy subject for me. My parents are very old school. They are not outwardly emotional people. They have a habit of being very dismissive of how people feel. My mother is not a very maternal person. She is not emotionally available, and more than likely is bipolar herself. Though, I doubt that she would ever seek help with it, even knowing that there are others in the family who are bipolar. She has spent so much of her time distracting herself, so as not to have to deal with the deep-rooted emotional knots that have held her back from being a truly happy person. My mother has never spent, at least that I know of, any time dealing with being sexually abused as a child. She has never processed, and never acknowledged the impact of some of the things that have happened to her in life. I don't think she is interested in helping herself.

Now, because of the nature of my parents' personalities-- I am in this situation where I could potentially lose my girlfriend, or potentially distance myself from my parents for a really long time. I know what the right thing to do is. I just need the courage to do it. I need to make my parents finally be parents. I need to ask some really hard questions. I need for them to be supportive of me in a way that they never really have been. I have no faith that they will be willing. At least not until I move out and go back to not wanting to have anything to do with them.

I don't understand why but I am treated differently than my siblings. I have always had to deal with things in my life on my own. While my parents bend over backward for my sister. Sometimes for my brother. It is a major point of contention for my girlfriend. In moving here, we both thought that they were finally going to show the kind of support that I deserve, and it hasn't worked out that way at all.

It was naive of me to think that things would be any different. They never have been. I wish I had thought more about moving over here in the first place. But, things are what the are. I just have to deal with them. Finally, hopefully for the better-- I have no choice.