LLi2020

My fucking sibling just blocked me on twitter, and said it was because they were "going thru smth" they "didn't want shared". They don't tell me shit, how would I tell the world their shit?

Obviously, I overreact and block them back, delete any post i can find that mentions them, unfriend them on discord, and go over to tumblr to vent about it. How else would I react. /s

I guess it's kind of a sore spot they hit, since my ex suddenly blocked me everywhere with no proper reason as well. And sure, they don't know this. And sure, they very well may be going through it. But is it so horrible to say I can't be bothered to care?

Maybe I'm selfish. (I'm definitely selfish.) But I will not act like they have it any worse than I do. Our parents are mostly their parents, our mutual friends are basically just their friends, and their worst friendship trauma they've struggled to speak of was a friend telling their crush they liked him. And not to play in the trauma olympics (I'm playing in the trauma olympics) but my friend sexually assaulting me repeatedly for at minimum a month is something I laugh about. It pisses me off so, so much that them getting an emotional boo-boo is treated with such care, but me literally having been raped as a child has been of no concern since the day after my mother found out. (And it barely was the day she asked and was answered, either.)

They can do whatever they want unquestioned. Me referring to their struggles as the teenage experience is called wildly unempathetic and callous. (That is just what it is. I'm completely accurate in that statement. They weren't even within earshot.) I'm treated as the scum of the earth for being angry at all ever.

What makes it worse is that I DEFEND them too. I will put myself under more stress to call out when our parents speak unfairly or unjustly about them. I correct misunderstandings, and suggest further support. No one thanks me for this, I just do it because I don't want them to turn out as fucked up as me.

When they briefly engaged in self harm they were treated with concern and care, and I was asked to try and steer them away from it. When my still ongoing tendencies were last discovered, my phone was wiped, my accounts were locked down, and I wasn't allowed to leave my room (also completely cleared of items) outside of mealtime for days. How is that fair? I had to beg to be given fifteen minutes to try to talk to my (at the time) best friend. Everything was sifted through. I was asked to provide the location of any remaining hidden blades, and I had to give one where I would lose the least. I was mocked for it by my own father, while I was outside doing chores as they gutted my room. They have guilt tripped me about it countless times. Saying how scary it was to have to sift through bags or plushie innards that may contain loose blades, the same blades I had been using to slice open my skin.

And my sibling just gets love and concern.

I get I'm the fuck-up, the "practice child" for my parents so they could raise my sibling properly. I'm aware. I know I'm not perfect whatsoever. But surely a kid can't deserve this? All this?? Surely a child should be given at least a second thought, even if just a passing one?

I tried to kill myself when I was twelve, before I even started deliberately harming myself. It wasn't a sudden thing, I had been on the edge for a while— walking by roads at night and debating jumping in front of a car, holding a knife with the point towards my stomach or throat, et cetera. The route I eventually went with was taking a bunch of expired painkillers and whatever else I could find.

Obviously, it didn't work. I woke up sick, throwing up everything, and remained ill for the day. I didn't tell a soul until years later. My mom did find the pill bottle one day, but never asked, and as far as I can tell she doesn't know.

An annoying long term side effect of this is that I'm afraid of pills. I don't get spooked by them or whatever, but seeing or hearing or smelling or tasting them (or really being in proximity to them at all— though ESPECIALLY feeling them in my mouth) makes me nauseous. This has very slowly gotten better over the years (though I kinda fucked the recovery with my brief dph issue) but still persists. My mother has been very irritated by this every time that it has come up. She is not very understanding unless there is a diagnosis LMAO.

I don't get kindness or understanding or love. I'm just not that lucky. But my sibling gets it all, and they get so many friends. It's just not fair, how I'm stuck living in the shadow of someone who came after. It's not fucking fair. I want to be human. Why can't I be? Why can't I be a person? Why can't I be worth caring about to ANYONE? I'm always being forgotten or left behind or just less wanted than others. I'm never the first option to anyone, not even my own fucking family. And I haven't even scratched the tip of the god damn iceberg here.

My uncle, when we were watching a movie that has been a christmas tradition to my family, got irritated at me because my presence was somehow in the way of him getting to see his sister for what supposedly could be the last time in years (since my family is moving). This, among numerous compounding incidents, reinforced an idea that I'm just not someone people talk to, which pretty much ruined the holiday season for me.

In seventh grade (aka hell), I was effectively decoration to my friend group. I wasn't spoken to, I was just there to fill space. I wasn't anyone's favorite. Eventually the group fell apart and I was left alone. My closest friend (entirely and obviously one-sided, he had a "platonic soulmate") stopped talking to me and decided he hated me after I rejected an offer of a friendship bracelet (I struggle with jewlery, it can often be uncomfortable or even painful for me to wear, I explained this). My girlfriend would talk about her fictional crushes to her much closer friend right in front of me, and later told me she liked me more when I was quieter.

I don't even want to fucking start on eighth grade, it led to so much shit including the most toxic fucking codependent relationship ever experienced as well as a guy who used to yap abt his masturbation oc (I'm not joking. It was called the blanket prince.) harassing me for over a year and then my (now ex) best friend as a proxy when he no longer could.