I went to England to study at UEA for a month and I absolutely loved it. I enjoyed every minute there and dreaded coming home. By the time it came to leave for Sydney though, I was accepting, sad, but accepting. I knew I had to come home, go back to work and go back to my regular University. I couldn't stay in England forever, no matter how much I wanted to. So I came home and let's just say it has been all uphill (because going downhill is actually easier, logic!) and I have had only had bad days since then.
When I arrived in Sydney International Airport, I only had two prevailing thoughts. Firstly, I was glad I had an Australian passport because it's quicker to get through customs and security, especially after spending an hour in line for immigration at Heathrow. Secondly, I was quite excited to see my mum and sister. I quickly noticed that my mum wasn't there to see me, but I had my sister and her boyfriend welcome me home. I was glad for that. That was the only perk of the evening. Once I arrived home, I only got verbal abuse from my dad, who was so out of it he didn't recognise me properly and said "nice to meet you." Needless to say I was not impressed.
Things did not go back to normal once I returned, my life got a tad more complicated. In the past week I have been 'disowned,' even though that means shit to me (tried to keep this blog G, apologies) since my father is a tight arse bastard and his surname never meant that much to me anyway. His family never really liked me and even refused to see me at the hospital when I was born. So the whole disowning debacle was more irritating than upsetting, but what happened after was hurtful.
On my way to University I started receiving texts. These texts were from my sister and my father. My sister was moving and wanted me to come with her, since my father was the one who paid her bond (under the assumption that I was leaving too). My father, having found out I was not in fact leaving, decided I had to get out too. I've never heard of anyone being thrown out of home through a text message. Even my sister got sacked over Skype! That's still kind of face to face. So I found myself these past two days packing up everything I have owned at home (having lived there for 12 years) and throwing out things I have cherished since I was a child. I even found that I still had awards I won in Primary School and was quite proud to have back in the day, because being awarded academic excellence was a big deal back then.
I'm a bit of a hoarder and I have a habit of attaching sentimental value to things other people would not bother with, which is why my day got even worse when I lost a ring which meant the world to me. In monetary terms, it was worthless, but I loved that ring and always wore it or had it with me. So instead of being upset at my situation in general, being without a home and down a surname, I broke down in tears when I realised I had lost this ring. It's rather fitting actually, losing something that meant so much to me, the feeling of loss directed at a possession rather than the obvious. I still don't want to think about it.
What I think about my life right now is that my 'father' is a stranger to me and I don't recognise whoever has replaced him. He stripped me of his name, his sister abused me over Facebook for sledging the family name (that family has a way with technology don't they?) and he threw me out of the only home I've known since I was eight years old. I don't hate him though and I'm not angry, I just can't be bothered to be honest. I just truly believe that life should not be this hard or painful all the time, other people seem to turn negatives into positives and I just can't do that. I'm not one of those people who can always look on the bright side of life, it's never really been that great for me. I've been lucky with gaining friends who mean the world to me and having some family members who seem to like me a bit. I probably don't deserve them.
I'm not sure what I'm going to do or where I'm going to go, but I really wish it wasn't always this hard. If the past twenty years have just been a warm up act to whatever is coming next for me, then I'm really not interested in sticking around for it. I have been called a masochist, but even I'm not interested in prolonged torture. It's just like leaving a terrible film early and nobody blames those people for walking out. We all know how it was going to end anyway.
No comments:
Post a Comment