Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Sometimes it is too much

I've been through some rough patches and I'm not afraid to admit when it is my fault. I'm human and I make mistakes. This year seems to be mistake after mistake. Error after error. I'm not sure who I'm becoming now that I'm home but I know that I don't like whatever path I'm on.

In my last post I mentioned that I was going back to school, which is the path I want to be on. A lot of you know that I've been wrestling with depression and it's left me at a loss for identity. It seems like the old adage that things must get worse before they get better is ringing true. I was behind on somethings, because well... working minimum wage does really allow one to live and make payments on things now does it? (No, it does not.) So they took my car back. It's my fault of course, I got behind. I was a day late (quite literally) from being caught up but now they've decided to close the entire amount. So no car. It isn't the end of the world.

Complaining about my car being gone isn't the reason for this post though. This post belongs to my parents and my inability to trust them to help me. I'm not sure really how to touch on this. At some point in my 26 years I have learned that I can't count on my parents to be there for me when I actually need it. I can't seem to bring myself to tell them this. That all the years of their arguing, berating and verbal put downs has left an indelible mark on my mind. I've watched my parents fail time and again. My own life is built on the rubble of their failures and inadequacies.  I've fought and struggled to get out from under it. I did briefly when I moved to Austin and I excelled tremendously.

Foolishly I moved back home and as a result I feel like the last two years were just one big tease. I'm terrified that I'll never get back to feeling like I did for those two years.

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