Dark and Gloomy Past
Feb. 16th, 2001 09:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
azuriteSome people think I'm a bitch, even a shallow one. Forgive the language, people, but it's the truth. Since I have been around 10, I sort of pushed other people away. Some great, patient people, managed to push their way through my invisible bubble and stand up to me, ask me why the hell I was so seclusive, and they became my friends. Everyone else makes it a point to stay away from me.
Of course, there's a perfectly logical explanation for all of this. On July 20th, 1996, my older sister died. In a hiking accident, on a cliff that wasn't very well fenced off. It changed everyone in my family's life forever.
My mom was never as fun to be around. Hardly spontaneous, and never the one to suggest to "eat out", "watch a movie" or anything. Her life became her bedroom, revolving solely around the X-Files. I had been with my dad and his live-in girlfriend when I found out. He was supposed to be the one "comforting" me and all that. Seeing as my sister wasn't his daughter, he apparently didn't think he had to do much of that. When he wasn't not there for me, he was with me, once, when my cousins wanted to go out to eat. Even then, he wasn't all that comforting. He called my sister stupid for what she did, after the fact, and right when no one wanted to hear it. But I suppose considering, his life when downhill from there too.
As far as I'm concerned, I had it the worse. I always held my sister on a pedestal. She taught me morals; principles; everything I know about computers that I didn't teach myself; all about Japanese culture, my #1 passion; how to read, write, send letters, get guys-- EVERYTHING. Like any human, she erred some times. But even after we fought, I still loved her so much. It's hard to think I can barely remember her voice. I tried so hard to be the support for my mom, and that's when my "cycle of destruction" began. I figured I was needed too much by others to let myself feel anything. I lost someone very dear to me without even knowing it. Not just myself, but someone I had grown to love so deeply, that it was hard to recognize as anything beyond friendship. But he was there for me, and I never acknowledged that. I can't now, now that he's moved away.
But after that year, dubbed Year of Hell, I withdrew into myself, albeit the fact I made more friends. But I made even more enemies, and the reputation I had had since middle school worsened. I always had made it a point before to befriend younger students so they would look up at ME as a role model, the same way I did to my sister, but I was too twisted to become anything more than a bad example. I was violent, rude, abrasive, secluded, dark and angry. Part of me still is. I guess I did what I told everyone not to do, and bottled up all my emotions. I have learned, unconsciously, to pinch my wrist before I cry, to bite my lip before I shout, and to punch myself before I speak hurtful words. Yet I somehow manage to do all of them anyway, just as unconsciously.
Without my "role model" who had many a dark secret herself, I found out after her death, I was someone I would have been afraid of in my younger days. My mom revealed a secret of her own, one that I believed would have shamed my late sister. I hated her because of that. It was like dishonoring her memory.
My family died at a rapid rate after that. My grandmother, my aunts, an uncle. One of my youngest baby cousins was left without a father. All of my remaining relatives were slowly losing their sanity, what little they had left after so much devastation.
And throughout it all, I wondered, these visions where I knew that death was coming... would I be next? I always seemed to be able to see bad things happening, and not always to my family. It was true for my family, but also true for someone who I love dearly. He didn't die, but he hurt himself badly, and I knew he would. But I was too afraid, too in love to tell him. Not that I could have prevented it either way, I'm sure. But I still wonder, if I continue to have these flashes of foreboding, will I be next?
Of course, there's a perfectly logical explanation for all of this. On July 20th, 1996, my older sister died. In a hiking accident, on a cliff that wasn't very well fenced off. It changed everyone in my family's life forever.
My mom was never as fun to be around. Hardly spontaneous, and never the one to suggest to "eat out", "watch a movie" or anything. Her life became her bedroom, revolving solely around the X-Files. I had been with my dad and his live-in girlfriend when I found out. He was supposed to be the one "comforting" me and all that. Seeing as my sister wasn't his daughter, he apparently didn't think he had to do much of that. When he wasn't not there for me, he was with me, once, when my cousins wanted to go out to eat. Even then, he wasn't all that comforting. He called my sister stupid for what she did, after the fact, and right when no one wanted to hear it. But I suppose considering, his life when downhill from there too.
As far as I'm concerned, I had it the worse. I always held my sister on a pedestal. She taught me morals; principles; everything I know about computers that I didn't teach myself; all about Japanese culture, my #1 passion; how to read, write, send letters, get guys-- EVERYTHING. Like any human, she erred some times. But even after we fought, I still loved her so much. It's hard to think I can barely remember her voice. I tried so hard to be the support for my mom, and that's when my "cycle of destruction" began. I figured I was needed too much by others to let myself feel anything. I lost someone very dear to me without even knowing it. Not just myself, but someone I had grown to love so deeply, that it was hard to recognize as anything beyond friendship. But he was there for me, and I never acknowledged that. I can't now, now that he's moved away.
But after that year, dubbed Year of Hell, I withdrew into myself, albeit the fact I made more friends. But I made even more enemies, and the reputation I had had since middle school worsened. I always had made it a point before to befriend younger students so they would look up at ME as a role model, the same way I did to my sister, but I was too twisted to become anything more than a bad example. I was violent, rude, abrasive, secluded, dark and angry. Part of me still is. I guess I did what I told everyone not to do, and bottled up all my emotions. I have learned, unconsciously, to pinch my wrist before I cry, to bite my lip before I shout, and to punch myself before I speak hurtful words. Yet I somehow manage to do all of them anyway, just as unconsciously.
Without my "role model" who had many a dark secret herself, I found out after her death, I was someone I would have been afraid of in my younger days. My mom revealed a secret of her own, one that I believed would have shamed my late sister. I hated her because of that. It was like dishonoring her memory.
My family died at a rapid rate after that. My grandmother, my aunts, an uncle. One of my youngest baby cousins was left without a father. All of my remaining relatives were slowly losing their sanity, what little they had left after so much devastation.
And throughout it all, I wondered, these visions where I knew that death was coming... would I be next? I always seemed to be able to see bad things happening, and not always to my family. It was true for my family, but also true for someone who I love dearly. He didn't die, but he hurt himself badly, and I knew he would. But I was too afraid, too in love to tell him. Not that I could have prevented it either way, I'm sure. But I still wonder, if I continue to have these flashes of foreboding, will I be next?
