I was right in thinking my Tragedy class would be awesome, but for some reason I forgot that tragedy is sad. I am really really sad. From "Basic Characteristics of the Tragic" by Karl Jasper:
"I am guilty because I am alive and can continue to live while this is happening."
"Existence is guilt."
"my very existence causes misery."
From "Tragedy, Pure and Simple" by George Steiner
"It is best not to be born, next best to die young."
"men and women's presence on this earth is fundamentally absurd or unwelcome, that our lives are not a gift or a natural unfolding, but a self-punishing anomaly."
"Where there is death there is hope"
"The gods do not only kill us for their sport, as Lear has it: they torture and humiliate us in extremis, when we are totally defeated, when we grovel before them."
So anyway, I was done reading these, getting ready to write my first small paper, when my 16-year-old brother comes in and asks if I'm going anywhere tonight. To me, this means he wants me for something or want to do something with me. No, I'm staying home. "Good, we're having a family meeting in fifteen minutes." He tricked me. "Awww... I wish we could just talk to people individually..." "Not everything's about you, Alicia! God!"
=(
And then my 16-year-old brother started yelling at me, ending the whole thing by saying "Fuck! You can't even-- ugh!" And then he stormed into his room and slammed the door. What just happened?
So my mom comes in, making me feel even more like a child by asking why Michael was yelling. "I don't know..." "Well, he was yelling at you!" "Well I know that..." Explain what happened...
My mom goes and talks to Michael, says family meeting's in fifteen minutes and goes back into her room.
I try to talk to my mom first. "I don't like when my little brother yells at me like a child." "Well, maybe he thinks you deserve to be treated like a child." What the fuck does that mean?
I spent the whole family meeting crying like a child, knowing that it only helped their ability to treat me like one. It turns out everyone's depressed in my family for some reason, but of course the only one crying was me. And I was really really crying. I'm not home all that often, and I try to be as invisible as I can be when I'm here. Right now I'm at home, but no one else is here to see me here. Invisible.
My mom basically said she's really depressed about her job, and she's sorry she's never around. My step brother said he's sad at his other house. My half brother who yelled at me said he was sorry, he didn't know where it came from. And then my step dad... complained about me a lot. He doesn't like it when I go into his room. I didn't even know that. I generally only go in there to talk to my mom, because she hardly goes into the other rooms anymore. He doesn't think I contribute anything to the household. He wants me to think about my career because I publish little stories and poems, but I'm not making any money with them, so how will I make money being a writer? I thought I was going to teach... He knew that... I don't know what else I'm supposed to?
All I could really ask was for the chest of drawers to be moved out of the garage and into my room. So I could have a place to put my clothes, since the closet and the bookshelves are all full of their stuff, and I've been piling all my stuff on the ground.
So by the end of the night I was feeling more than useless. I was feeling that my existence caused suffering in others. La la la. My cat didn't even follow me to bed. And he didn't wake me up in the morning. I just woke up at 2:20, and now I have all this homework and writing to do, that apparently won't get me anywhere. I wish I could live somewhere else, but through a huge scandal I realized that my grandma doesn't want me there. My dad doesn't want me there. I would be a burdon on everyone. And I can't afford to move out right now. I would have to find a place of my own because no one wants to live with me. And I don't even have a job. I don't have religion to fall back on, and I don't really have hope for anything, so all I have is the antidepressant/antianxiety medication that I took when I woke up and the mind numbing savior that is a pile of homework left to do.
This blog is really self indulging. I don't know why I've posted it.
Detector
1 day ago
2 comments:
I love you Alicia. I always will. Your existence is something I'm personally thankful for.
I'm sorry that people aren't as compassionate as people should be. I know everyone has their own things that they're dealing with ... but there's also the matter that we're all just human and trying to make it through the day. I hope your step-dad realizes that someday.
I don't doubt you'll make it with your writing. I picture you publishing and being apart of various collections ... even with teaching on the side. I've never worried about you being able to make it in the world. You're one of the most intelligent, hard-working people I've ever known.
Life will get better. It might take time, but it will.
:hugs:
I'm sorry. That's miserable. It is really weird that Greg doesn't like you in his room . . . . especially since you mostly just go in there to talk to your mom. It's her room too, right? And then, the writing thing--like you said, you're going to teach. Your mom knows that. Everyone knows that.
I had another friend once, whose dad used to come home and make big messes so he could call in all the kids (my friend included) and yell at them about it. The whole family meeting thing seems like that to me. All of the points made were groundless. It just seemed like everyone was having a bad day, so they decided to take it out on you. Which is terrible; maybe one of the few instances in which less relatives would be an advantage. Again, I'm sorry. Whatever everyone is going through isn't your fault. You deserve better.
Post a Comment