July 14th, 2022: Split Down the Middle

Good morning, my dear guests. It's currently 5:30 AM as I begin writing this blog post, and I've been avoiding posting on here as I was feeling a lot better, but I started crying while talking to my parents and it feels like I'm right back in early June.

Half of me was full of anger. I had been sitting there for thirty minutes just waiting for my mother to stop berating my attitude. She viewed my struggle last semester as an excuse for a gaming addiction and thinks I'm a leech. Every sentence I uttered was either dismissed as though it were meaningless or scoffed at. Every word I said in the conversation was scrutinized with doubt and adorned with malice. Simple statements about things I've seen with my own eyes were put into question. Years of my younger escapism and secrecy caught up with me, and it was clear my mother would let me have no quarter. She claimed I was constantly quietly seething with rage and I agreed, saying it started 10 years ago, trying to hint that her misunderstanding of me in the car ride home from school was the main catalyst for our doubt and spite towards each other. Trying to back her up, my father said that my attitude hadn't changed since middle school and pointed out that I'd already been to a counselor for bullying so it didn't make any sense to be afraid of it now.

Half of me was empty with guilt. I was neglecting my responsibility to myself to live my own life and my desire to spread my wings a little. I wanted very deeply to live on my own and make my own decisions, and yet I regress into this husk of a proper human. My father helped me pick out classes and came up with a plan that needed to be carried out as soon as possible, and yet I continually stalled on it as though I hated it. Today was the day I arranged to get things done and yet here I am, sitting at the dining table getting dogged on. My parents' criticisms were partially accurate; I was pretty curt to my father just for asking about the things I needed to get done and I hadn't slept well for a few days before. I woke up at 3 PM and played video games until now, what right did I have to rebut? My mom made clear that I seemed an angry person, and I agreed that I'd been angry for ten years, as this had been quite an issue for a long time. My dad said that I'd been this way since middle school, and that I'd already been to a counselor for bullying so he didn't understand the issue.

And then it occured to me all at once why I went to the therapist before. I blurted out "You know they threw rocks at me cause I was gay" and as I elaborated I realized something.

They had no idea.

I was fighting two fronts and neither side knew. I was trying to look cool in front of my peers so I pretended like my home life was fine, and in spite of all my fighting it earned me nothing.

I was playing two parts and neither stage knew. I was trying to look good in front of my parents so I pretended like my school life was fine, but all my acting and facades got me nothing.

I covered my face, turned toward the fridge, and got a glass of water.

Your half-robot,

DW