needing fine tuning.

oh, hi there. 

word of warning: this is pretty bumming. i mean, it’ll get better once i’ve mentally re-calibrated, but as with all things, it will take some time.

i originally started writing this blog as a counter part to my jewelry shop, a companion where i could share my radically insane diy projects, and get a bit of a mental outlet so as to not… snap.

while i’ve been focusing more on the first two aspects, the third has fallen in line to being abandoned and neglected as badly as my drawers of junk. n.b. i’m writing this while struggling to pack/clean/move all of my stuff from my own place into my parents’ apartment. actually, that’s all the more reason i need to utilize this space better for psychological reasons… living at home, with my parents, will be an experiment in patience and maturity and truly test how much i can withstand before finally surpassing my breaking point. it’s not out of my own necessity that i’m moving back home; more circumstantial than anything else, i had finally begun to find some direction until i hit this new tantamount roadblock.

look, i love my parents and siblings, but there’s a reason (well, several) for why i was in the darkest times of my life when living at home. unfortunately, when you’re both the first born and a girl in a south asian family, there’s a whole slew of burdens placed in your shoulders before high school even starts. multiply those by a factor of 1.2 million, and you’ve mathematically found the weight of what i’m carrying. congratulations.

but that’s neither here nor there. the situation becomes increasingly difficult as the keeper of my sanity and ally is now living in another city, too far to run off to but close ‘enough.’

so parents/siblings + extra b.s. at work – 1 incredibly patient and caring Boy = a Quasi who is teetering towards jumping ship.

i have tried in the past explaining to my parents about the darkness. i’ve tried getting them to see how their words, their blatant disregard, their biting reminders of my failures, it all causes me a physical pain that makes every day more difficult than the last. they claimed that it was all in my head, pushing the all-to-familiar agenda of “you’re crazy for thinking that” and “we do care about you, you’re the one being selfish.” its easier to believe you’re in the wrong, that everything is better and would be better without your presence, when your surroundings become confirmations of these thoughts. maybe i was, and am, crazy. but i was useful and needed only when it benefit everyone else. my own presence was non-essential otherwise. i felt invisible in my own family, without an identity to latch onto besides those temporarily assigned to me.

i guess it’s more difficult to see that you’re treating one child completely differently when the other two require constant attention. i’m not holding my childhood against my parents or siblings; i just can’t be treated like that again and expected to be fine with it. after having lived on my own for several years without a constant force of disparaging commentary being thrown into the mix, going back to that place is going to be (and is) a challenge.

the lesson here — for the next few months anyways — is that i’ll have to stay away from falling back into that cavernous dark place. family is meant to be an inherent support system, the skeletal structure holding you up and away from the cruelty of the world. when the darkness begins to appear, those closest to you are supposed to be the shield against all odds, strengthening your shell so that you can grow to survive without them. but when your family chooses to block out your presence as an inconvenience to them, rather than a sacrifice you’ve made, what else can you expect? if countering their version of reality with your own becomes more combative than productive, then what option do i have besides silence?

i guess i’ll have to build my own shelter now to keep out the darkness.

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