Technically, these aren’t angry thoughts, more this is life thoughts. But someone was angry at me so… It counts?
Birthdays in my family are fucked up. When I was younger, it was more of a fun and friend filled affair, sometimes other family. Life happened and we became this tiny unit cut off from everyone else. Birthdays became a day of sheer misery. I would tell everyone that I hated my birthday and I remember my school friends going out of their way to sing me happy birthday and generally making the first half of the day good. I always held onto that because I knew that what came next would be varied.
The problem is usually Mia. Mia is…temperamental. It doesn’t matter whose birthday it is, the day usually becomes about Mia. Mia is trying to make it nice. No one helped Mia. No one can do things the way Mia can. Mia was left on their own. Mia was this. Mia was that. Mia is sick. Mia has probably fucked up more birthdays than they realised.
Today was no different.
It was Wendy’s (my sister) birthday and I was tasked with getting the cake. Reasonable.
Unfortunately, I had the day off. I say unfortunately because having time off is just an excuse for people to burden me with more crap. It means that time flies and I can’t do half of what I need to. Whatever. The most important part is that I’m nowhere near work.
However, when I woke up I was in bad shape. I had cramps and awful back pain. I got up and made myself tea but fell asleep for so long that it was cold. I just felt sick. Still, I dragged myself up and started to get ready.
Generally, I put my music on and drown out everything when I’m in the bathroom, so I didn’t hear any talking until someone came to tell me that Mia had started complaining about something. Hurricane Mia had come and her target was me. Once again.
My crime was not going to buy the cake in time. Uh, in time for what? I bought that damn cake and as of 3am the day after it remains uncut. For that crime, I was more or less called arrogant, a bad sister (she said she wished Wendy had a better sister than me), a disappointment, lazy, I was told that I need to go the doctor for medication.
I laughed it off, because it was my sister’s birthday after all. All I could do was just stand there and take all of the nastiness thrown my way. If an apology comes, I’ll probably do the same thing. There’s no point in wasting energy fighting back when everything is always going to be my fault. I’m blamed for everything and if I talk back, I’m too defensive. I’m too sensitive. I’m self-centred.
I can’t freaking win.
I think it’s one thing to feel like a disappointment in life and another to be told that you are one by the people who are supposed to uplift you. Instead, they beat you down and ask why you’re on the floor. They push you and ask why you’re not steady. They force you to do things and play dumb when it all goes wrong. That’s just my life, though.
Ain’t it grand?