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My family has always been tight-knit, or at least much more than most families. I didn't grow up with my immediate family since my father didn't have the means to raise me and my brothers after my mother died. So, my grandfather took me in. I was raised by my grandparents and aunts until the formers' deaths and now here we are. I still live with my aunts but since we're a small family we're close, so stuff like this is pretty much standard considering our dynamics. Stuff, as in, writing diaries/journals about me since birth and giving it to me once I'm older. I've already received my other aunt's (the one I'm on very good terms with) journals and I love those to death. Aunt2's diary for me on the other hand...
I think I expected too much. As I said to my aunt before reading one entry that piqued my interest while aunt2 was at work, "I'll give her the benefit of a doubt". The said entry being a page entitled "entitlement" and aunt2 basically listing off every single issue that I've had with her and her making everything out to be my fault and my fault alone. Actual enumerations with their own little headlines. It's ridiculous because all of it was accurate despite being written from her point of view. So, this basically told me that she knew what she was doing wrong. She knew it. She knew every reaction that I have when faced with those wrong things and yet, she told it in a way that tried to make me look bad. Only it really doesn't. If anything, I feel like if an outside person read the entry, they'd probably think it was a bad joke. God, I hope it was just that. Because at least despite being bad, I can just laugh it off because it's a joke. But it's not.
My blood was boiling by the time I finished it. I read it all aloud to my other aunt and, being the voice of reason in our family, told me to not process things just yet. She was also tired when she said this because she just came home after a business trip, so I couldn't really blame her for not wanting to talk about it in the moment. But I already processed it. How could I not process anything while reading the damn thing? It's practically ruined my curiosity for the rest of the diary because if I know that a single entry can be written like that? I'm hesitant to know what else she wrote.
It was already hours ago since I read it but the disappointment is relatively fresh. In fact, everytime I have hope that our relationship can become better, another letdown happens, and the wound is slashed open and left raw again. I don't know what to do anymore. I know I've been distant and moody these past few years, but it's not like I haven't tried. But it's so tiring to try over and over again only to realize after that the conversation you initially thought was successful, was just you being gaslighted into thinking in her way. Which is not a good idea, by any means. I honestly have nothing to say anymore. Or can't think of anything to say. This was an exhausting entry to write.
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