I don't even know why the hell I'm blogging about it. I guess I don't really have anywhere else where I can actually say what the hell I feel, so I better just go ahead and state what I need to state.
I'm friggin' tired of being an older sister.
Funny, you say...
Yup, I dunno if anyone has ever treated being part of a family as a job but I am on this job 24/7. I actually want to give up on it. The more I think about it, the more it allows me to rationalize and justify what I am feeling.
I am from a family of very-together parents, and a brother that is not so together in his brain. I actually have the complex of a middle child brought on by the fact that I am the middle kid. Yes folks... I had a elder brother, who died while he was a fetus inside my momma's tummy. I exhibit the classic symptoms of the middle child syndrome...
The middle or second born child or children often have the sense of not belonging. They fight to receive attention from parents and others because they feel many times they are being ignored or dubbed off as being the same as another sibling. Being in the middle a child can feel insecure. The middle child often lacks drive and looks for direction from the first born child. Sometimes a middle child feels out of place because they are not over achievers and like to go with the flow of things.
Being a middle child would mean they are loners. They really don’t like to latch on to a person in a relationship, there fore they have trouble keeping one due to lack of interest. Not liking to take the limelight for anything, they are not over achievers and just simply work enough work to get by, and typically that goes with school as well as a career. They are however very artistic and creative. If forced to use abilities they will work well, but do not work well under pressure. They often start several projects but rarely keep focused long enough to finish a project. The best career move for a middle child would be along the lines of using their creative. Going into a writing or journalism career, and into a career that they could freely express themselves would be good. Anything that would have hours that are flexible, and projects that frequently changed would be good for a middle born child. Since relationships are not of high importance to a middle child, often times they are alone. However, the best possible match for a middle child would be a last born.
Source: http://www.essortment.com/all/whatismiddlec_rsoe.htm
I have always wondered why the hell I always feel that my parents never really loved me the same way my brother was loved. He gets off scot-free, while I suffer asking for penance for everything I have done, good or bad.
Case in point, last Sunday, the belligerent brat decided to bring his highly pretentious GF to the house for an overnight stay. With Mama being away for the weekend to go back to the province and visit her kin, I was in charge. He threw a fit when I simply asked "You're not sleeping in the same room, are you?". What ensued was a heated exchange of words. Followed by pretentious GF saying calmly "I think I'll just go home...". (Obviously, she wouldn't be caught in the middle of a family drama which she herself caused, let alone be subjected to the darts of fury I have to lash out against her.) He slammed the door shut, almost locking me in the house. Upon trying to pry our ancient metal door open, I kept thinking to myself if I was wrong, if I was too strict... I sent an SMS to my mom, who after 2 hours later confirmed that she did approve of the overnight stay of the pretentious GF in the house, but had assumed that it was for Saturday and not Sunday night. That really got to me.
If I was actually to bring a strange man into my home, into my room, when I was 21... would my mom have gotten
b. dinner for the man
c. happy that her daughter will finally get laid
What happened next was also detrimental to my mental health as Mama got back home and spoke nothing of the incident. Like it was something normal.
Tuesday night, I come home with my belligerent brat of a brother (Yes, I love alliterations!) with his friends on the couch, watching TV and smoking. This was at 2AM... Do I react? Nope. I march straight up to my room. I told my dad the next morning to please tell my friggin' brother that I would really love some quiet time to myself, stress and all from the office. My Mama then tells my brother to lay off the late night couch sessions. My brother then texts me very hurtful messages like "Stay out of my fucking business" and "You're such a bitch...". Maybe I am. I forward the messages to my Mama, thinking she'd castigate the little freak to which she says "Just ignore him..."
Ok...I totally get it. The little repugnant brat was just venting. I want to vent to by calling him names no respectable newspaper would be caught dead printing. But nope, I just have to ignore it. I am trying to but it just cuts right to you. You know, back then, I was thinking, I want to raise my kids the same way my parents raised me but come to think of it... nope.
Sure I never did drugs. I didn't sleep around. I couldn't f*cking kill a bird, let alone another human being, but damn, I couldn't love myself for what I am cos I feel like I am never good enough. I was never given much discipline so I tried to be rigid and disciplined for my sake. I always was honest because I thought that the only way people can be honest with me is if I actually pushed myself to be a good person, good enough to never lie. I became a recluse, fighting for a friggin' chance to be a director, engulfing myself with so much eff*ng work, it ain't funny no more so I can prove to myself that I still got it... Even in my relationship with my fiance, I need to hear that I am loved for me to know that I am loved. I need to be valued and appreciated cos I never felt appreciated. How's that for f*cking twisted?!
Last night, when I got into a cab, I whipped out my phone and started typing the plate number of the cab I was riding. It was 1:30AM... and I just realized, oh right, Jeoff's dad is en route to Toronto... His dad asked me to ALWAYS send him the cab info everytime I go home. (Pretty preposterous, right, since I'm a 27 year-old woman who has always been taking cabs... ) I sent the message to Jeoff instead. He replied, "...you should send it to your folks. " The thing is my folks never asked me to actually text them any kind of information as to where I am. Could it be that for some malignant reason, his dad actually loves me more than my own folks do?
2 comments:
No. It just means that mine have a different way of showing how they love and discipline another person. Especially if you're going to be part of my family. ;)
Trust me...your Dad would take the first flight out back to Manila and whip out a shotgun at me if he knew I wasn't treating you properly.
Well, I don't doubt that. However, I dunno, it raises questions if they think too much of me or they think too little of me, you know what I mean?
:)
Post a Comment