It has been a while since I've written, and I left last time on a rather dramatic, worrisome note. In the time since then, I've pulled myself back together. I'm not sure completely, but it seems like the burden I carry for being trans is just a bit too much to bear at times.
Since then, I've had to celebrate the holiday with my biological relatives. I knew this was going to be a struggle when I left to visit them. The first night wasn't bad, but I got wind of plans for a "family get together" the next night. This was different as it was to include my father's surrogate daughter, her husband and newborn son.
I left the apartment early and didn't show up until after things were already going. I tried in vain to find anyone to give me an excuse to not return, I also tried shopping, movies, and driving around my old neighborhoods. I eventually returned, and only then, was it after wasting time at a local pub drinking beer, and debating whether or not to cut myself in the bathroom stalls. When I finally left, I walked outside and a chilling rain was dumping large drops onto my head and face. I looked up and just started laughing and letting it hit me for a bit. I wasn't upset at the rain, I was ecstatic for it as it reminded me of all things Seattle. Cold, wet, rain. It was cloudy, humid, and 80* when I went into the bar. I drove back in an ecstacy of tire spin and hooliganism on empty wet roads.
When I got inside, I said my hellos and gave meaningless hugs. I don't remember many of the nondramatic details. At one point, my father interrupted a conversation between my brother and I, so we could be sure and watch him take pictures of his surrogate grandchild. The impact of this, on my brother and I, is apparently lost on my father. After emotionally abandoning us to her, he still invites her over as if he had done nothing wrong. I appeased the bile and rage I felt and continued my escapism with my brother and his girlfriend. At some point, sentences by cisgender women began "As a woman". At this point, I felt I had to run to the bathroom for fear of hearing how that conversation would turn out. I bargained with myself in said bathroom to only do two more cuts. Exiting, sane again, I rejoined and continued a very shallow consciousness until the night eventually ended.
Christmas day came and went largely unnoticed. Gifts were appreciated, but nothing I could not easily live without. Especially considering they mean so little coming from people I've no real emotional connection to anymore. The entire time I kept hearing the theme of "it isn't about you" echoed by various people. I was forced into taking pictures I didn't want to be a part of, and instead of understanding that I didn't want photo's taken, I was patronized and told I'd eventually want them. I sincerely doubt this. Lack of connection aside, why would I want photos of me at my worst? The whole event shows a huge lack of understanding on their part, and a dismissal of my feelings.
At the end of the day, my brother repeated, again, the "not about you" mantra. What bothers me about this, is the sheer hypocrisy of the statement from him. I have lived these past 7 years completely for my parents. I answered every call, I cut spending when I told to, I came down when they asked, I did favors, I helped out where I could. I took out loans to help pay for my tuition and living expenses. I do everything I can to placate, and make their lives easier. Now, having graduated, and finally free from whoring myself out for their support, I can relax, be myself, and not do anything, I don't want to do. Meanwhile, my brother has done the complete antithesis of this, to the point that my parents either A, don't bother calling him as he never answers, or B, rant to me about how they can't get in contact with him. The nerve, gall, and hypocrisy of him telling me to do anything for the sake of them asking me to, is absurd and complete bullshit.
I've since vowed I will never return to celebrate any holiday out of obligation or guilt. Especially not with them. I want to celebrate with an actual family, one that when I leave I feel sadness, not relief. People I have an actual emotional connection and investment in, not a glorified financial planner and debt collector. The same applies to both sides of my family, I'd almost rather not take their gifts and cut off contact from them, than to have to remain attached to them because of material possessions.
That said, I am back home now, and feeling much more like myself now. Healing up, again, as per the usual.
Since then, I've had to celebrate the holiday with my biological relatives. I knew this was going to be a struggle when I left to visit them. The first night wasn't bad, but I got wind of plans for a "family get together" the next night. This was different as it was to include my father's surrogate daughter, her husband and newborn son.
I left the apartment early and didn't show up until after things were already going. I tried in vain to find anyone to give me an excuse to not return, I also tried shopping, movies, and driving around my old neighborhoods. I eventually returned, and only then, was it after wasting time at a local pub drinking beer, and debating whether or not to cut myself in the bathroom stalls. When I finally left, I walked outside and a chilling rain was dumping large drops onto my head and face. I looked up and just started laughing and letting it hit me for a bit. I wasn't upset at the rain, I was ecstatic for it as it reminded me of all things Seattle. Cold, wet, rain. It was cloudy, humid, and 80* when I went into the bar. I drove back in an ecstacy of tire spin and hooliganism on empty wet roads.
When I got inside, I said my hellos and gave meaningless hugs. I don't remember many of the nondramatic details. At one point, my father interrupted a conversation between my brother and I, so we could be sure and watch him take pictures of his surrogate grandchild. The impact of this, on my brother and I, is apparently lost on my father. After emotionally abandoning us to her, he still invites her over as if he had done nothing wrong. I appeased the bile and rage I felt and continued my escapism with my brother and his girlfriend. At some point, sentences by cisgender women began "As a woman". At this point, I felt I had to run to the bathroom for fear of hearing how that conversation would turn out. I bargained with myself in said bathroom to only do two more cuts. Exiting, sane again, I rejoined and continued a very shallow consciousness until the night eventually ended.
Christmas day came and went largely unnoticed. Gifts were appreciated, but nothing I could not easily live without. Especially considering they mean so little coming from people I've no real emotional connection to anymore. The entire time I kept hearing the theme of "it isn't about you" echoed by various people. I was forced into taking pictures I didn't want to be a part of, and instead of understanding that I didn't want photo's taken, I was patronized and told I'd eventually want them. I sincerely doubt this. Lack of connection aside, why would I want photos of me at my worst? The whole event shows a huge lack of understanding on their part, and a dismissal of my feelings.
At the end of the day, my brother repeated, again, the "not about you" mantra. What bothers me about this, is the sheer hypocrisy of the statement from him. I have lived these past 7 years completely for my parents. I answered every call, I cut spending when I told to, I came down when they asked, I did favors, I helped out where I could. I took out loans to help pay for my tuition and living expenses. I do everything I can to placate, and make their lives easier. Now, having graduated, and finally free from whoring myself out for their support, I can relax, be myself, and not do anything, I don't want to do. Meanwhile, my brother has done the complete antithesis of this, to the point that my parents either A, don't bother calling him as he never answers, or B, rant to me about how they can't get in contact with him. The nerve, gall, and hypocrisy of him telling me to do anything for the sake of them asking me to, is absurd and complete bullshit.
I've since vowed I will never return to celebrate any holiday out of obligation or guilt. Especially not with them. I want to celebrate with an actual family, one that when I leave I feel sadness, not relief. People I have an actual emotional connection and investment in, not a glorified financial planner and debt collector. The same applies to both sides of my family, I'd almost rather not take their gifts and cut off contact from them, than to have to remain attached to them because of material possessions.
That said, I am back home now, and feeling much more like myself now. Healing up, again, as per the usual.
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