More negative happenings

Yes, I am aware that this blog is very, very negative.  I always think that I want to write something more positive - and I do - but it seems that I'm only prone to writing when I have something negative to say.

I hate where I live.  Rather, I hate living with my mom and her husband.  I am not used to living in a house with an older male.  Well, not one this old.  I am also used to being treated like an independent adult and not a man-child.  Of course, my mom's husband's son is a complete man-child, so that is the model by which he parents.

Why am I not using the term 'stepfather'?  Well, it's because I have no emotional attachment to him.  Since he and my mom got married, my mom has poured money into his home and his life, works more than him, makes more than him, and caters to his every whim and desire.  I'm not used to seeing my mom as a slave.  I'm used to seeing her as an independent woman who serves out of desire and not by force.

So...there was a blowup at my house tonight.  I tried to apologize and set things right and he just went off on me.  Later, my mom threatened that I wouldn't "have a place to live anymore."  Excuse me?  I won't have a place to live anymore?  My mom didn't kick out my brother who wasn't going to school and didn't have a job.  Her husband won't kick out his drop-out son who smokes in the house, buys and smokes marijuana, doesn't have a license to drive, and doesn't have a job.  But I, who has an education, a good job, and contributes around the house (cleaning, helping with chores, etc.) am threatened to be kicked out for being too negative.

Oh, and the worst part?  Whenever there's a problem in the house with me we all have to have a damn family meeting.  Meanwhile, when the pot head buys weed from a car in front of my house, nobody says a word.  Nobody cares about getting cancer from second-hand smoke.  Nobody cares about the damaging effects of marijuana (halted cognitive development, impaired cognitive function, intoxication lasting 24 hours, a "high" or "contact high" lasting a few hours, degenerating cognitive function...), but everyone cares if I have one bad day.  Just one.

You know what we call that?  It's Critical-Incident Management and it is a horrible way to manage employees or lead a family.  It's when an employee (or in this case, family member) makes one mistake and it becomes the focus of the management for the remainder of that employee's career.  The employee's morale suffers, performance suffers (starting the cycle again), and they eventually get fired or quit, harboring ill feelings toward the company and the management.  I don't need to explain why that all is a bad thing.

So think about this.  I had one bad day and I'm threatened with homelessness.  Meanwhile, Prince Drop-out Potsmoker downstairs is treated...well, like a prince.  Whereas I help move furniture, wash cars, cook (on occasion), and do a number of other things around here and I'm told that I'm not fit to live here.  I guess I don't contribute enough.  My cons outweigh my pros, apparently.

And that appears to be a pattern in my life.  No matter how much good I do, the little bad things that could be ignored (or helped with) I guess are too apparent.  I was under the impression that I was a pretty good person, but I guess not.  I can only really try again, but it's discouraging.  Do I really want to keep trying in the face of such failure?  What I'd really like to do is run away and start life over again.

I don't know if happiness will ever come.  It's so dependent on external factors.  I guess I'll continue to try to internalize happiness, but I don't know what to do.

I still miss her

It has been since October 23rd since she left me. I loved her so much. My friends tell me that she was abusive toward me, but I had/have a hard time seeing it. I still love her.

I remember what she used to call me. Sometimes it wasn't so nice, like when she called me 'douchebag'. But when she called me 'sir', it was wonderful.

I have to explain that I hate the term 'sir'. I don't like it when people call me sir and I didn't ever want to be called sir by her. However, I came to realize that it was a term of endearment. She would call her brother sir on occasion, but she meant it differently with me. She'd say it when I gave her a gift or when I said something that made her feel special. She'd tuck her chin in, look at me with loving eyes, and say just one word: sir.

It was moments like that which made me want to marry her.

I still miss her. Yeah, she was a little controlling and she wasn't as physical as I wanted her to be, but I loved her! I worried about our intimate future, that I would want to be close and kiss and touch and stuff and that she wouldn't be interested. I hoped that would be something that I could live with.

I just loved her so much. Some of you out there might be thinking that I'm just being a pansy about it, but those who think that must never have experienced actual love. I find that people who think that are just looking for sex and never want a real relationship with real emotions involved.

One of my friends in particular said that I was in a clearly abusive relationship and that I'm better off without her. Maybe so. I'm not sure. I just know that I loved her very much and that I never wanted to spend a day apart from her. I miss you, ANB. I hope to see you again.