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1.30 AM, Freezing, And I Am Walking Home
Jan. 28th, 2006 01:29 am
"1.30 AM, Freezing, And I Am Walking Home", Nokia 6680, Amsterdam, 2006
Damn. Screwed up the composition because of shutter-lag.
I resisted, BTW.
Jan. 28th, 2006
Damn. Screwed up the composition because of shutter-lag.
I resisted, BTW.
(no subject)
Jan. 28th, 2006 01:17 pmObviously my siblings have to get used to me again.
First of all, I am not supposed to care what they call me. My sister, whose vacated appartment I am in, just very explicitely told me that. Even asking is a form of aggression. Asking again seriously was anti-social.
And answering the suggestion that I should babysit 3 children between the ages of 1 and 5, without her even knowing my experiences with children, or even my life for the last ten years, with "No fucking way" is overly aggressive too.
Well, so I sat down and asked her to tell me what she was angry about, and I got crap for all week. I shoudln't care what my name is to my siblings and all their children. I only see them two days a year anyway. I seem to not have been happy enough when she comes in every two days in the appartment for an hour with husband and two children to check internet and messages during my workday at 11AM. And when she was on the phone here just now with my father, my answer of "It doesn't matter" to his question whether he should buy something special for me is to her a total indication that I am anti-social, and she had to wag her finger and tell me five times that I'd better be nice tomorrow. I cut her off the sixth and told her she had no clue how I was around him.
Now I am supposed to sit in the train for 3 hours to Belgium to be with another sister and her children, the one who told me to my face that wanting to be called FJ is a denial of my family. She said it with a smile of course. She always does. That means she isn't being aggressive, you know.
The notion of being social today seems to be to explicitely allow them to define what should be important to me. If the consensus is that something should not be important to me, it isn't. Of course she lorded the gratitude I should feel for letting me stay in the appartment. She even brought me a desk chair so I could work.
My real problem is that I am not playing their game, but showing my emotions honestly. Always have.
I want out of this appartment. Now. I can't, but boy does it feel tainted to me now.
First of all, I am not supposed to care what they call me. My sister, whose vacated appartment I am in, just very explicitely told me that. Even asking is a form of aggression. Asking again seriously was anti-social.
And answering the suggestion that I should babysit 3 children between the ages of 1 and 5, without her even knowing my experiences with children, or even my life for the last ten years, with "No fucking way" is overly aggressive too.
Well, so I sat down and asked her to tell me what she was angry about, and I got crap for all week. I shoudln't care what my name is to my siblings and all their children. I only see them two days a year anyway. I seem to not have been happy enough when she comes in every two days in the appartment for an hour with husband and two children to check internet and messages during my workday at 11AM. And when she was on the phone here just now with my father, my answer of "It doesn't matter" to his question whether he should buy something special for me is to her a total indication that I am anti-social, and she had to wag her finger and tell me five times that I'd better be nice tomorrow. I cut her off the sixth and told her she had no clue how I was around him.
Now I am supposed to sit in the train for 3 hours to Belgium to be with another sister and her children, the one who told me to my face that wanting to be called FJ is a denial of my family. She said it with a smile of course. She always does. That means she isn't being aggressive, you know.
The notion of being social today seems to be to explicitely allow them to define what should be important to me. If the consensus is that something should not be important to me, it isn't. Of course she lorded the gratitude I should feel for letting me stay in the appartment. She even brought me a desk chair so I could work.
My real problem is that I am not playing their game, but showing my emotions honestly. Always have.
I want out of this appartment. Now. I can't, but boy does it feel tainted to me now.