My parents are just a tad toxic

I don't know how to write this post. How to put it all into words.

When I think back to my upbringing, I realize just how much I have internalized it. I keep telling myself it could have been worse, that I am more privileged than most, at least both my parents are alive and on the general more than nice people.

But it's not always been good for me. Ever since I was young there has been something in me, that wanted to put a little distance between me and them. It's tricky because I don't love them any less, and it's not that I won't miss them and I can't even say it because I don't know how to, I just can't be around them all the time.

There are darker days.

To begin, when I was young my dad was an alcoholic and addicted to cigarettes. This caused big tension between him and my mother. They used to get into these huge arguments, that were somehow always set off by my actions. They wouldn't talk to each other for weeks on end. In consequence, everyone surrounding my parents chose sides and every single time, I was always blamed for their issues, every damn time. I always felt so alone, I still do. I can remember my exact set of emotions after every fight even know as I write this. Loneliness. Pure and dark, I had no one of substance on my side, it was like everyone would just turn against me in a snap. They would blame me and interrogate me on every little thing that I did just to tell everyone what I did wrong and then they would pressure me into fixing their problems. Talk to them, figure out what's wrong. Why is your dad mad? Why is your mom not talking to him? They fought often while I was growing and it was like history was just on a loop. I was 5, 7, 8, 9 ,12, 14 ,15. Being alone is something I grew up with.

My mother is impatient, uncommunicative, and angry. She was quick to action instead of breathing and talking like I was, being the peacekeeping force like I was raised to be. I could never say what I was thinking because I would be filed under back talking or disrespecting her even though I was just trying to tell her why I did what I did or compromise. She is the queen of manipulation and twisting my words, somehow always finding more wrong with me than good.  Today, she hit me several times with her fist, she threw a container at me and broke a couple things in the living room while she went at it. She asked me to fill out a couple forms for her online shopping order. I was in the middle of writing my essay you see, and I told her I would do it tomorrow when I had time. Apparently, that makes me ungrateful, because she tends to my every need and I can't take five seconds out of my day to complete her forms. I told her them a little more complex than that, I would need more than five seconds, I had time tomorrow to help her and apparently, that's me disrespecting her. My cheek is bruised today.

I think sometime around when I was 15 my dad was looking into having an affair. I was using his phone to call someone when I found the Ashley Madison app. I managed to get into his account, which wasn't hard, and I blame my curiosity. My dad had made an account and had contacted a few women. I don't know if it's lucky or not that no one answered, but a few weeks later the app was gone. I never thought about it again, until last week when I opened safari to google something and match.com was the last opened tab. I don't know how to process that, so I won't.

My dad like my mom is also quick to twist my words. To place blame onto me, when things don't go the way he would like it to. Even if those situations are actions that he has also done. Apparently, when he does what I do it's excusable. But I am not.

And finally, his public intoxication. He loves his whiskey, doesn't he? He stopped for 5 years and they were nice. My parents fought less and maybe its because he wasn't drinking but I can never know for sure.  It was just better knowing that there was one less problem to deal with. But unfortunately, his five years are over. He is back to being drunk at other people's houses out in public on a day on the beach. Seeing him act like that in public is why I promised myself to never ever drink to the point where I act like that. Where I utterly embarrass everyone who came out with me. he doesn't think about how other people when that's all I think about.

Take this post how you want it, but I needed to write this. Tomorrow is the new year and this time I promise myself I will not let others make me unhappy. I am done crying over the terrible loneliness my family makes me feel and I promise I will move on. I will not be petty and I will not pursue anger. I'll be good. Sitting here, and taking all this pain, this pressure is absolutely and completely exhausting, and frankly, I cannot breathe anymore. I have no more tears for this anymore. I am done being what my parents made me because they couldn't think for five seconds and see what immense trauma they put on a little girl.

Tomorrow is a new day, and I'll be good.
I'll love the world like, I should.
If they want to be sad and angry let them, I choose to be happy today for all the times I never could

Chasing the feelings

Lately, I have found that the reason I have been doing has been to try and recreate moments I've felt in the past.

I joined a Latin dance team to recreate a moment I felt the last march. When I was in the middle of Paris, learning to salsa for the very first time with my friends in an overcrowded bar. It was late in the night and the heat from the number of people was subdued by the cool spring breeze. The moment was perfection, I was laughing and grabbing a tight hold on my best friends. Spinning and dancing to the music was dizzying but in a very good way.

I invited too many people to my house to recreate a moment I felt 4 years ago. When I walked into high school for the first time. I remember thinking about how excited I was for the next four years, to be where everyone says changes you. Now, I'm trying to grasp at what little time I have left with the most incredible people in my life because soon their constant presence is going to be gone and I dont know how I can live like that. I invited 25 people to my house (which is much too much to fit into my cozy semi-detached) to try to recreate that joy and safety I felt on the first day of high school when I met some of the loves of my life for the first time and thought they would be there forever.

I bought specific board games, even though I'm an only child and most often have no one to play them with, to recreate a moment I felt this August. When I spent 1 week in a cottage with my extended family, and we split between playing volleyball and codenames, watching movies and singing very loudly and most often badly (save for a few good ones). I have no one to play board games with but I purchased one for almost 30$, in the hope that I could feel the happiness I felt in August again.

I'm sure there are many more things I do, to try and relive the past. The most special days will always be the ones you dont know are the best nights of your life yet. It's incredulous to see how different things were a year ago vs how they are now.

My question for you is whether or not you do the same thing? Do you find yourself doing things today in an attempt to recreate emotions or moments you felt in the past?

Why "The Unkept 3AM Thoughts"?

I understand that my blog has an intriguing name. Today I'll dive into it a little more so you can get a little more insight on my mind.

Lately, and more frequently this year I have been having much more late nights and all-nighters then I have ever had before. Call it major procrastination or senioritis, whatever term you want to use, they all mean the same thing: that due to my annoying laziness I always tend to leave things to the last minute.

In the heat of those moments in between yelling at myself though, I find myself more focused and driven than ever. Maybe it's the deadline or the sheer panic of me inevitably one day not actually finishing what it is I need to get done, but in those late hours of the night, I find less and fewer things distracting me.

Now that you have a little more context as to why I dont sleep a majority of the time let's go back to the topic at hand. After finishing my late night cram sessions and retreating to my bed, I often marvel at the eerie silence that fills my house. Even though we are a home of three people, my parents make their presence very known, by either talking way too loud, watching tv way too loud or just travelling around the house in a very loud way. So at 3AM I can just stare up at my ceiling and look at the light filtering in from my window. I can hear my parent's steady breathing in the next room and I can just think.

Everything comes to me at 3AM, ideas for novels, plans for the future or just questions about my existing reality.

There is something very raw about being awake at 3AM. You can just exist without anyone, for some quiet moments you are just you with yourself. No one is there to judge you or change the way you act and react. It is the purest form of yourself and that is something I cherish.

I named my blog the unkept 3AM thoughts because I appreciate what it means to me. This is me trying to get over my fear of being all and entirely myself in front of another person, this is me being awake at 3AM, this is me sharing with you the mess that is my brain.

An Intresting Introduction

Welcome!

       This is my third attempt on starting a blog and I have yet to find out where this goes. In my first attempt, I was 12. I had no idea what my writing style was, how to write properly or what having a blog meant. I couldn't even muster up the courage to write under my real name, scared that in the unlikely chance, someone I knew would read it and confront me about it.  

       Writing has always been my dirty secret, for some reason, someone knowing that I wrote words on a page, made me want to bury myself. In all honesty, I dont remember why. That being said, I still carry some of that fear to this day, right now even as I write this. After reading into it some more I think I know now. I think its the part of writing, where you expose yourself to the world. Where people could read what you wrote and see what you were thinking. 

       I have never met a person who completely knew me. And so, when I imagined other people reading my words, I was filled with fear about how they would react, how they would think of me when they found out everything about me. And thus, the blog had always started but never continued, I always stopped short because of those thoughts. 

       It's been 5 years since my first attempt and I am much different now. I still carry all those fears I had when I was 12 but I am learning more about being unapologetic for who I am. A lot of things have changed since I was 12 actually, and with all these changes happening in my life, I've decided that this blog is long overdue and my time to keep my self in my bubble of safety has run out. 

       To keep up with my insanely crazy, busy and messy life, I intend to keep this blog, so in a couple of years, even if no one else reads it, I would still be able to see how I've grown and all the ways my life has been turned upside down. It is going to be like my brain spread out on a silver platter, all my thoughts and ideas and everything split for my personal view. 

       And that's enough for me.