Cecilia Lisbon

I go to her gym, I go to her church, I take care of her house, I get the grades she wants, and in the middle of all this she finds time to complain about how sad I am even though she does everything she can to help me and how I am not cooperating with her help. I can do all of this without saying a word, but she cannot expect to have both. Either I do everything she wants or I am happy, because one thing goes intrinsically against the other. Being around her is a constant theater of not showing my inevitable despise for someone who causes me so much suffering.

She has been complaining for years and years about me being happy with my friends while I change completely with her. She is not wrong, and the more I have to repress this despise that grows every day, the more it continues to grow. 

I don't like being with her, I also don't like seeing her and especially talking to her. She seems to create a narrative about me lacking vitamins and that is why I am so tired, unmotivated, lacking concentration, sleepy, etc. But none of these things are true, I do not feel tired, nor sleepy during the day, nor unmotivated. On the opposite, I do all my obligations without problems and my only tiredness is not physical, it is the tiredness of not being able to survive in suffering any longer, which is exactly what being with her causes me.

I feel like she creates this narrative because she mirrors in me what is bad for her, so if all the things she puts in me are good for her, in theory they will be good for me too. But it's the opposite, they only make me feel more despise for her and more unhappy with life. She knows this, she sees that I'm sad at these times and all she does is ask me to improve my appearance because she's doing everything she can to help me (help that was never requested). She tries to solve things in such a superficial way that it only makes me worse.

Being at home/near her means fighting to survive, because at these times all I want to do is run away and throw myself in front of a car, or out of a really high window, or fight back against an armed robbery, or take a bunch of pills.

That's what happened last time, I was tired and she started complaining to me about some futile thing, I reached my limit and started taking pills because I couldn't stand living like this anymore.

I want this to end. It's a nightmare that seems to have no end. The light at the end of the tunnel, when I'm old enough to run away from it, I try to believe that it's close, but I know it's so far away, and I'll still have to put up with so much if I want to get there, I don't know if I can, or if I want to.

Have you watched The Virgin Suicides? I think you should watch it, it's cool. I think I still feel like Cecilia