I am 30 but the demons of my childhood are still hunting me sometimes.
Especially today. I went to visit my “family” over the weekend.
It was the most horrible weekend I had in years.
These people have caused me so much misery through childhood and teenage years and still when I was over 20. They kept causing me misery until I started breaking contact with them because I was already in deep depression and they were just pushing me so much that I was about to kill myself because I couldn’t take it anymore.
My mom, who is the only one in my “family” who I can bear somehow, asked me to come for a visit for the past 5 years and now I ran out of excuses. I had to come. I made it as short as possible because I knew what would happen there.
I will bare you the details of how miserable my stay was. Just take it as it is. My family sucks so bad that they still cause me panic attacks although I am out of the country and in almost no contact with any of them.
My husband and I went to a few cool places in and around the city. All in one day. In the evening we met my “family”. Every single one of them a person I would not approach if I could chose and if they were strangers.
I got there a little later and everybody was already waiting. They were quietly sitting on the table. My mom, father, both brothers, one wife, and toddler.
I came. Hugs everywhere. Weird smiled. Then people started blaming each other for stuff. I ordered a drink for me and my man. People kept bullshitting each other. We ate. People kept being very awkward, trying to be nice and social because they all like me very much (I don’t think there is much love involved in this family).
I tried to stay out of all the blaming and bullshitting each other. Picked up on the (rare) nicer parts of conversation.
Once people started leaving, we went back to my mom’s house.
I still tried having a good conversation with her late into the night. But she was either telling me things about her bad health, or about her sick man, or about other depressing things. When I would say positive things, they were uglied away…
At 1am I said I need to go to bed now.
Slept, breakfast, ran to the train like a moron because she kept me so long that I almost missed the train to the airport.
When I sat in the train after this horrible weekend and after running so long (to the train) that my legs felt like they will fall off and my throat got so dry that it burnt and I felt like I will soon vomit my lungs out, after almost collapsing in front of the train because I couldn’t run another meter, I started thinking.
About half the train ride I was thinking that I do not want to come back ever again. I was thinking about the fact that I can’t call that country or even just that city my home, because I never had a real home back in the day and now as I visited I had no feeling of coming home unlike many people I know who go “home” for a weekend. I didn’t go “home” for a weekend, I went to <country> and visited “family”. I felt like an alien.
When I was done thinking I told my husband “Let’s not come back here anytime soon!” He agreed with me. We will not come back soon.
I live in Ireland now > The first place I was ever able to call “home”. And home is where the heart is. Home is where you want to stay. Ireland is my home and I hope that I will never have to leave!
Fuck, am I happy to be home!!