tears falling down at the party

09.19.22

haha i am so sad.

it's been raining all day which normally. i really love. the rain brings me comfort and reassurance that things are growing, things are receiving the life they need from the rain. i have a patch of moss in our backyard that i get so excited to see once it's "revived" as a result of the rain coming to help it when i can't water it.

but instead i have. the fourth shitty day in a row of a very shitty week at work only to come home and just. be berated by my stepdad again. to him i am a freeloader and useless and the reason his marriage and "this entire family" (there isn't really much of that to begin with) is dissolving as a result. i live in a town that operates with a very specific industry in mine, and due to choices by government on a state level, the industry that fuels the economy (albeit an industry i condemn greatly) will be impacted greatly with the possible closure of one of the facilities out here. both of my parents work at this particular facility. somehow this is my fault according to my stepdad. everything is my fault. even when i am not home if a mess or problem occurs he doesn't take care of it, instead waits until i come home, and then somehow finds a reson to blame me for it time and time again.

i didn't ask to have brain problems or social ineptitude or any of that. i can't help i was born with a different brain that i can't even get a proper diagnosis for because i feel like my family may gaslight me out of believing the research i've been doing to advocate for myself for nearly five years now. i just want to make art. i want to make others happy with my art. i want to put these worlds and people and feelings that live inside of my head to paper or canvas or what-fucking-ever and just. i want to be able to communicate what i can't verbally with my art. expressing myself vocally has never been something i've been good at but with things like poetry and stuff like comics/drawings i've finally really found an outlet for myself. it hurts me to know that i am regularly discreted by my family in this aspect. my family can often recognize i'm depressed before i even know but instead of trying to help me recognize that or seeing if there's tools i need to help i'm just told to suck it up. that i need to grow up. expression and emotions are not something i am allowed to have. just make money. you did so badly in college it's because you're lazy. you have no drive. you're a loser and a freeloader and god knows what else.

i just want to fucking live.