You can only hide behind your sunglasses for so long little girl
Before the tear drops start dripping down your cheeks
Hold your breath as you try to hold it all in
Suffocating in your own skin
Hoping no one sees the real you
To the softness within
You’re only hope is that it might rain
To disguise the pain that you’re in
The civil type where we would sit down at the dinner table at 7:30 and eat together. We would talk about our day as a family, share jokes and laugh. But we don’t do that anymore because we can’t function as a family. Everyone here is filled with regret and resentment, both of which do not make good dinner companions. So we all eat in our separate rooms; my father in the living room, my mom in her bedroom and my brother and I, when we can tolerate each other eat in the kitchen. It’s become a habit and unfortunately doesn’t look as though it will be changing.
Something happened tonight. Something that made me liken myself to a balloon. I’m half filled with helium struggling to climb ever higher, but hindered by the many strings tied to the people I love. Some of those strings express things like love, contempt, guilt and sadness.
I sometimes wonder as a balloon if it is me and my lack of helium that keeps me from reaching the atmosphere of my desires. Or is it the people that I’ve tied myself to. I’ve tried lifting these people up with me only to be thwarted by their incessant drama.
So what is this lonely balloon to do? I sometimes dream that I could find someone strong enough to snip the strings and let me climb, but maybe that is a disillusion in of itself. I also dream of snipping the strings myself by way of death and so I might pop under the suns hot gaze. Guilt and hope keep me from that dream though.
That is all.
Goodnight from this balloon to you.
My family has problems. Middle class sort of problems. One of us may be bipolar, another an addict and me? I’m your basic depression laden non ambitious 20 something who’s trying to find something to do in life. Now my parents are, well they’re, how do I describe this. They’re crazy enough that a therapists would do well on making them his clients, the only problem to this scenario though is that my mother doesn’t believe in those things.
A brief history on my family. My mother is on her third marriage as is my step father. My biological father is a man I know little of and haven’t seen in 12 years. My second father, who FYI was the best of the bunch sadly committed suicide January 2013 after years of depression and alcoholism . My current father is a pack a day smoker who recently got diagnosed with cancer. Then there’s my step brother, I’ve known this kid since he was born and he’s your typical self centered teenager trying to find out who he is.
So why don’t I just move and quit my family? I honestly don’t know sometimes. What I do know is that living with them is not good for my own mental health. What I also know is that I claim far too much responsibility for them and if something were to happen like my step father killing my mother or vice-versa then I would feel somehow guilty.
Needless to say my family has problems, but when I look at the bigger picture I think to myself things could be worse then a voice inside says isn’t this bad enough?