I don’t want a family.
I don’t want to have a family.
I don’t want to have a family.
I feel so silly saying this because people will be so surprised that I even think this.. But honestly.
I don’t. I really don’t.
The idea in itself is nice..
A nice family with a dog and kids…
No, actually that’s not even a nice idea to me.
I hate the idea of family. And raising my own.
I don’t want to raise a dysfunctional family.
I don’t want to be in a dysfunctional family.
I don’t want to be a dysfunctional family.
I despise it.
Because I’ve lived it. I’ve been in one.
One of the most dysfunctional families I’ve experienced.
I mean, there’s probably a lot of them out there, worse than mine.
When people talk about the idea of having a hubby and having babies and just being happily-ever-after
I just think..
“That’s nice.. I don’t know.”
I am just so angry. With my brother, my father. My sister. My mom. Everything and everyone.
I hate the idea of having children. I hate the idea of even being in a relationship with someone so intimate to know everything about me. Just to turn away and leave me. Honestly. Honestly. Honestly. I just hate the idea of the option of being left. I just hate the idea of being so hurt again. Really. It’s something so deep. I can’t.
I’ve allowed that to happen before, let someone into my walls, and they’ve torn and destroyed them. Humiliated. Hurt. Angry. Confused. Betrayed. Lied to. Broken trust. Something’s wrong. Seriously.. so much embarrassment, so much bitterness, so much rejection, feeling worthless, chosen over. Trash. Rubbish. Last choice. Lied to. LIED TO! So lied to. A fool. Such a fool. So angry at myself.
Family.. Never something I enjoyed.
Family means fights
Family means yelling
Family means bitching
Family means manipulating with words
Family means getting whipped
Family means heavy responsibilities and burdens
and being left behind if I don’t come to the car on time
and somebody being choked against the wall
and my entire closet thrown onto the ground.
Emergency rooms with my sister having charcoal black liquids dripping down her mouth.
All the disrespect towards my mom.
The absence of a father.
The foolish son trying to control and dictate everything.
Financial burdens and shifted on everyone.
No constant provision.
Even the idea of it.
It’s really nice and sweet and romantic from afar, it really is.
I’ve entertained my thoughts with such sweet love from a beloved, and maybe having a safe place to raise a child.
But the past overrides everything.
And when the idea gets too close or real, it becomes a looming deathly dark cloud.
I don’t want to.
Don’t try to force me and change my mind.
I hate all the explosions.
Yelling, screaming, hitting.
Attacking, defending, throwing, screaming.
The mockery and manipulative words.
I can’t handle it.
No no, no family for me.
It’s gonna be really hard to convince me.
Sometimes my heart opens,
But then it shuts closed again and again.
I’m reminded of all the hatred and bitterness and hurt from an explosive fight with my brother.
I’m reminded of why I hated him so much. And my sister so much.
I am so angry and so hurt.
But I am calm.
I am resentful.
But I don’t need to let their words manipulate me or affect me anymore.
Or affect my identity or who I am.
Or degrade me or devalue me or destroy me.
I just don’t want a family.