And lo, I was visited by the Angst Fairy
So you know how I said in my last post that there were a couple of incidents on Christmas Day that were causing me some angst over a week later? Well now it's over two weeks later and the angst is back. I'm not sure it ever really went away. I told myself I was going to use my LJ to document the positive things going on, instead of just whinging and complaining, but right now, I really *really* need the catharsis.
As I said before, it's my step dad's mum. I don't know why this woman has so much power over me to make me feel terrible, but I really wish she didn't. For the last few years she has managed to make me feel that I'm not family, that I was only a temporary grandchild, but now they have their proper blood related issue (my sisters), I am no longer of any consequence. Whether this is actually the case I don't know. The fact is my sisters where born just as I was changing from being a cute little kid to a teenager with absolutely nothing in common with her, so maybe it's just that she doesn't know how to relate to me. I'm sure I didn't help, her making me feel like this meant I avoided going to visit if I could, so I didn't exactly send out "include me" messages. And it was silly things that got to me. When the girls were younger she would often buy them little presents, just silly things like art sets from primark. Nothing major. And I could see that. I could see that as a teenager there's nothing really she could have got me to make me feel included. It wasn't that that got to me. Really, I wasn't. Well maybe a tiny bit. But I could have lived with it if she had once, just once acknowledged that I might feel left out, if she'd just said something, anything to suggest she'd ever thought of my existence at all. Just show that she realised that she'd exlcuded me. |But she never did. Never.
This is something that I have come to terms with. I can live with this fact. At the time it was something I could mostly live with. It just hit me sometimes as thoroughly unfair.
But this time. This time she really crossed a line. I hate that she upset me this much that I am practically sobbing just typing it. With one comment she managed to cut, I guess, into my deepest insecurities. And what was this comment? Just that, in casual conversation, to me, she said something about my step dad having two daughters. That was it. I know that techincally, that's true. But I think, what about me? I know I'm not his daughter by birth, but he's helped raise me since I was 3. I spent more time with him than with my dad. Do I not count? Was I just a lodger for the 15 years I lived with him? 18, actually, as I didn't properly move out till this year. I just... if she was being malicious about it, that would be one thing. But I don't think she even realised what she said. She didn't even think about how I might feel about her saying it. Even if she'd referenced that he brought me up, again just showed that she *thought* about me at all. But it's not that she thinks it that really gets to me. That's not what has me on the verge of tears every time the thought enters my brain. No the thought that festers, the tought that cackles away to me in the back of my head is what if she's right. What if, after all these years, I don't count as important as a my sisters to my step dad. What if I'm not as good as a daughter to him? It may seem hipocritical of me, after all, I don't think of him as my dad. But that's not the point. The point is, he is as important to me as my dad, and my mum, and my stepmum. I have four parents, not two. And the thought that I might not be family, not proper family to him just leaves me in the most abject misery I have ever felt. I think the last time I felt this bad was when my grandad died.
The thing is, intellecutally, I know, I know that it isn't the case. I know we're family. But it doesn't stop the thought buzzing around my head like a malevolent bee. It doesn't stop me wondering what if I'm wrong?
I hate that this stupid, thoughtless woman has the power to make me feel like this. I hate it so much. I hate that even writing this down has left me an emotional wreck. I hate that I know that this thought is going to come back to haunt me. I hate that I have to go out and sing tonight and that if anyone asks me what's wrong I will just break down again. I hate that if I don't go I'll just spend the night dwelling and feel worse. I hate that I have a 40 minute bus ride each way on my own, and that the chances of me getting away with forgetting for a bit are slim. I hate that this whole situation has affected me at work and nearly made me start sobbing at my desk at least three times. And most of all I hate that I really need a hug and there's no one here to give me one.
As I said before, it's my step dad's mum. I don't know why this woman has so much power over me to make me feel terrible, but I really wish she didn't. For the last few years she has managed to make me feel that I'm not family, that I was only a temporary grandchild, but now they have their proper blood related issue (my sisters), I am no longer of any consequence. Whether this is actually the case I don't know. The fact is my sisters where born just as I was changing from being a cute little kid to a teenager with absolutely nothing in common with her, so maybe it's just that she doesn't know how to relate to me. I'm sure I didn't help, her making me feel like this meant I avoided going to visit if I could, so I didn't exactly send out "include me" messages. And it was silly things that got to me. When the girls were younger she would often buy them little presents, just silly things like art sets from primark. Nothing major. And I could see that. I could see that as a teenager there's nothing really she could have got me to make me feel included. It wasn't that that got to me. Really, I wasn't. Well maybe a tiny bit. But I could have lived with it if she had once, just once acknowledged that I might feel left out, if she'd just said something, anything to suggest she'd ever thought of my existence at all. Just show that she realised that she'd exlcuded me. |But she never did. Never.
This is something that I have come to terms with. I can live with this fact. At the time it was something I could mostly live with. It just hit me sometimes as thoroughly unfair.
But this time. This time she really crossed a line. I hate that she upset me this much that I am practically sobbing just typing it. With one comment she managed to cut, I guess, into my deepest insecurities. And what was this comment? Just that, in casual conversation, to me, she said something about my step dad having two daughters. That was it. I know that techincally, that's true. But I think, what about me? I know I'm not his daughter by birth, but he's helped raise me since I was 3. I spent more time with him than with my dad. Do I not count? Was I just a lodger for the 15 years I lived with him? 18, actually, as I didn't properly move out till this year. I just... if she was being malicious about it, that would be one thing. But I don't think she even realised what she said. She didn't even think about how I might feel about her saying it. Even if she'd referenced that he brought me up, again just showed that she *thought* about me at all. But it's not that she thinks it that really gets to me. That's not what has me on the verge of tears every time the thought enters my brain. No the thought that festers, the tought that cackles away to me in the back of my head is what if she's right. What if, after all these years, I don't count as important as a my sisters to my step dad. What if I'm not as good as a daughter to him? It may seem hipocritical of me, after all, I don't think of him as my dad. But that's not the point. The point is, he is as important to me as my dad, and my mum, and my stepmum. I have four parents, not two. And the thought that I might not be family, not proper family to him just leaves me in the most abject misery I have ever felt. I think the last time I felt this bad was when my grandad died.
The thing is, intellecutally, I know, I know that it isn't the case. I know we're family. But it doesn't stop the thought buzzing around my head like a malevolent bee. It doesn't stop me wondering what if I'm wrong?
I hate that this stupid, thoughtless woman has the power to make me feel like this. I hate it so much. I hate that even writing this down has left me an emotional wreck. I hate that I know that this thought is going to come back to haunt me. I hate that I have to go out and sing tonight and that if anyone asks me what's wrong I will just break down again. I hate that if I don't go I'll just spend the night dwelling and feel worse. I hate that I have a 40 minute bus ride each way on my own, and that the chances of me getting away with forgetting for a bit are slim. I hate that this whole situation has affected me at work and nearly made me start sobbing at my desk at least three times. And most of all I hate that I really need a hug and there's no one here to give me one.