Am I the issue?

I hope all had an amazing Christmas, and if you do not celebrate Christmas or at all, I hope that the past couple days have been nothing short of the best life can provide! 

Today, I watched a movie called Encanto. It's a beautiful Disney movie about a young woman with a family of magical gifts, who finds out gift is acceptance. That is what I am going to write about today, because as this movie goes on, my Stepmom messages me on Facebook after not speaking with that side of my family for the past year. 

Acceptance - the ability to accept those that you can and cannot change. 

Over the past year of not communicating with half of my family, I have learned the wrong version of acceptance. I learned to accept that I am not worth anything, the air around me, the food I have been given. I have taught myself that it's okay to accept being nothing more that disappointing. I thought that as the years would go by, the pain would be less and less significant, but that was wrong. This past Christmas Eve, I was speaking with my mother about the issues my father and I have. Not once did I think about the others I was hurting. My Stepmom, my Brother... Not once did I think that when a building falls, it crashes and hurts other. 

She messaged me today asking if there was something that she did wrong, or if I was mad at them. Reading that hurt me. There is nothing that they can do wrong, they are just doing the best they can, and have nothing by good to me. That's where my title comes in. 

Am I the issue? 

I was the one that stopped talking to them. I was the one that avoided looking at older pictures. I was the one who wouldn't reach out. This was long before I stopped talking to them as a whole. I have been this way since I was really young. Communication was hard for me. I could never explain my feelings. I had all these big emotions as a kid, and did not know how to handle it. 

*Trigger Warning* 

When I was 8 years old or so, I was sitting on the ground in the trailer my mother and I lived in, and I was thinking how much life would be better for everyone if I wasn't around. Maybe my father and mother would be together. Maybe their life would't be a burden. Maybe I was the issue. Fast Forward years later, the same thing occurred. I though that my family would be better off if I wasn't an issue holding them down. All the secrets I held so close to my heart had finally burned a hole in it. A hole that will never be filled in unless I express those secrets. Everything from how I feel about my childhood, to the resentment to my father, to the pain of having to "Soldier on" whenever there was a disturbance in our family structure, To how I deal with suicidal tendencies without speaking on it. Secretly hoping that one day, I will no longer have the will to fight for my life. Hoping that I lose who I am to the darkest dark, and become that I was meant to be, a memory. 

I originally planned on this being an article about how I surpassed all the issues. How I move on from the wreckage that is my past and started building what will soon be my future. Not today however, today, I want to remind everyone that some of us are not okay. We are not healthy, although we look it. We are not happy although the smile, plastered on our face my deceive so. We are not hoping for a future, but for the past to no longer haunt our days. We are me. This is how I feel. 

Thank you.