Writing

After spending the entire day cleaning and rearranging my mom’s house, exhausted but satisfied with how everything looked, she came to me and asked if we could talk about my dad. I wasn’t expecting it. She wanted to know what I thought about his memory, his cognitive behaviors—how he was the last time I saw him, which, at this point, was three years ago. And honestly? The last stretch with him was hell. By the end, I felt like he was trapping me in his house, expecting me to take care of him while refusing to co-sign an apartment so I could actually have a life of my own. He was a mess, and revisiting all of it made me rethink everything that had happened—what was real, what was manipulation, what I had let slide for too long. I spent the night trying to write it all out as a chapter, letting every memory spill onto the page. Then, weirdly, I heard this woman on Insta say something interesting: “If they never asked for your side of the story, then the side they hear is exactly how they feel about you.” I realized explaining myself to people who are already dedicated to misunderstanding me is... pointless. But maybe, just maybe, they’ll rethink it all when they read it.

#theater #musicals #toxicfamily #toxicpeople #narcissism #gaslighting #mentalhealth #toxic #boundaries #abuse #survivor #healing #dysfunctionalfamily #depression #manipulation #bipolar #life #sucks