Bevendre

2014 is almost over, and I’m not really sure how to feel.  

There has been some good, but I have more regrets than fond memories this year.

 I was lucky enough to find the closest thing I’ve known to love, and really hurt, and was hurt by the person I shared it with.

I earned my degree and graduated college, but I’m still stuck in the same position as last year, living with my parents and stuck with the same job, and I know that it’s my fault.

I think the best way to phrase it is that I’m ending this year feeling tired, tired of so much and I really don’t like that.  Let’s hope 2015 is better.

You know you’re trash when your dog wants nothing to do with you.

“While we’re out I need you to do this, this, that, this, this, and clean these.”
“I did all of that yesterday, when you asked me.  They’re still clean.”
“DON’T YOU LIE TO ME, THEY’RE FILTHY!”
“They’re clean, just look at them.  Shoot, they’re cleaner than most of the stuff you’ve ‘cleaned’ in the past few months.”
“BUT YOU’RE A TEENAGE BOY!  YOU’RE FILTHY AND YOU STINK, SO IT HAS TO BE CLEANED AGAIN!”
“One, I’m 22.  Two, I just showered.  Three, there’s a limit to how clean something can be, and how clean it should be kept.  Yes, my living space is dusty and not sparkling, but strangely enough I’m the one who almost never gets sick.  Having me obsessively clean every room I come in contact with because you think I’m unclean by merit of my gender and age will more likely make me sick than it will keep me healthy.  You’re not the one using the facilities, so let me keep them clean as I see fit.”

Today has been one of those unfortunate days where depression hits hard, and with no discernible trigger.  

It’s the kind of day where I can’t help but question why people give a crap about anything I do, and where I question why I do anything because it always seems to be, or feels like a pointless waste of effort.  

It’s the kind of day where I have no confidence in my art, or writing, or anything, and can’t even bring myself to just kill time playing games or watching videos because it would just be lazy.  So instead I lie in bed and try to sleep, only to fail at that as well.

It’s a terrible kind of day, and one that no one should ever have to go through, but one that I see happening more and more often to myself and to others.  

But it will pass, just as it always does.  No matter how bad the day is, or how bad it gets, that day will end and the next will bring something new.  Knowing that, it makes things easier even on the worst of days, in the worst of moods.

Times can seem terrible one day at a time, but overall they tend to be fairly good, it’s just a matter of seeing the whole through the parts.  It can be absurdly hard, but even the hardest of days can be overcome out of the hope that the year will be better, and the decade will be good.

It can seem like the worst day ever but

what happend?

Nothing specific, just family issues that have long been toxic, and that I would prefer to not deal with any more than I have already.

I’m tired of being called lazy, irresponsible, stupid and reclusive despite working near full time, maintaining good credit and fiscal backing, being the only person in my family (for generations on one side) to earn a college degree, and the only one to write a book.

I’m tired of being told that my sister does all of the housework whilst my brother and I are juggling laundry, dishes, cleaning, yardwork,etc. while she sleeps and watches Netflix.

I’m tired of having sleepless nights not because I fear for what my parents would or could do to me, but because they leave me questioning my worth on a regular basis.

I’m tired of my family, frankly put, and I think it’s passed time for me to move out.

I hate being depressed.
Having the feeling of absolute uselessness and knowing that it’s not true.
Feeling like I can’t and shouldn’t do anything because it will only go wrong, and knowing that that feeling is wrong.
Being unable to move because I can’t find the motivation or purpose to do so, but knowing that I have to or that I should.
The part I hate the most though, is that no one close to me pays enough attention or seems to care.  Those that have known me the longest don’t take the time to see that something may be wrong.  The people who do notice though, who do care, are always so far away even if they’re always there.