I’m envious of super close families. I mean really envious. I look at them and I think about how I never have had any of that. I don’t have a favourite aunt or uncle because at some point and time they’ve stopped caring about us. My uncle forgot my birthday on my parents 25th anniversary because “other things were more important” – to be perfectly honest I’m surprised my aunt even knows where I go to school. I’m jealous of families that have family reunions and barbeques for holidays or big birthday parties because someone is turning a special number. My birthday gift this year from my parents was a case for my retainer and pizza. I haven’t had a party thrown by my parents since I was 10.
My family has moments when they shine though. My brother always makes sure I know I am wanted in our family – when my mom is a little off I lately seem to be the victim of harsh words. My dad and me have a bond that makes me wish I could spend more time with him and at the same time makes me worry about losing him. My mom and me are a story that is never really sure what’s going on. Half the time she’s my best friend and half the time she’s my worst enemy.
My parents never said they were proud of me for getting into university but instead lectured me on the costs. When I got a full time job at a camp they warned me of the long hours and little pay I would be getting and tried to steer me into a position working for a hydro company (thank god I was rejected from that job). I have been elected president of a club with a joke about a congratulatory dinner that never happened, and when I was elected to be part of my student association my mom didn’t even remember me calling her because she was off her medication. I’d like a bit more praise from people for things that I do. Yesterday it wasn’t “oh you’re going to a conference to speak -that’s amazing!” it was “oh well what time will you be home”. I am having a hard time remembering as I write this the last time my mom hugged me or told me she loved me. It’s sometime in the last month or so I know that.
I was too scared to tell my mom anything as a teenager though because it became a weapon in fights against me. Memories of my mom include a roadtrip that ended in threats with her slamming the car into an eighteen wheeler (this is before all the diagnoses) and the constant reminder that it’s her house and she can kick me out whenever she damn well feels like it. I’m scared I’m going to lose my mom at a time when I’m mad at her, and I won’t be able to forgive myself.
I guess what I’m getting at here is I’m a kid who has had no other idea but to question how much my family cares about me. That hurts a lot when everyone tells you family will love you more than anything else in the world. If your a parent do everything in your power to make sure your kid knows how amazing they are so at 20 they’re not still guessing on whether or not they’re doing it right.