Because it has to be said. It has to be brought out here in my writing, in my isolated island of thoughts. I’ve been thinking about writing on this topic for a long, long time. I like to write about things currently on my mind, to help me get to sleep. If I write it out, my mind stop racing late at night and I can finally go to bed. Writing here is like downing a sleeping pill. Well I’ve been losing out on sleep alot lately because of this subject matter. I’ve written about it before. My parents.
I’ve been fairly neutral lately on the topic of my parents, not really caring what happened around me. But there is so much a man can take before he breaks. Truth be told, I find myself some nights imagining myself talking to a psychiatrist (in my head) to help me get past a few issues and resolve problems. It helps me to lay out my thoughts in order and get things off my chest. (It’s a hell of a lot cheaper than talking to a real one.) But now, it’s not enough that I’ve imagined talking to someone that would listen. I need to write it down. So I can remember. So I can be at peace.
I’ll start from the latest stab at my face.
I’ve been asking for an ipod for almost 3 years now. I haven’t really pushed for it, but I had always kept it as an answer to when my parents had asked me if I ever wanted anything. They ask me this alot, and I know they will never deliver. And if they do, it’ll be a half-assed purchase, like my 80dollar bed frame which sucks and had to be restrengthend by me using old tools. It took them 6 years to buy it.
Anyways, back to the point. I had wanted an ipod. I didn’t think I was getting one, but my parents are known for randomly indulging me every 6 years, so I thought, why not.
A few months later, they bought one! But not for me. Nope. For my brother. Well, I guess he deserved one right? I mean, he had just gotten academic probation ( I assumed. My dad says the school asked him to take a break, and I assume that’s what academic probation is. If it isn’t, then I don’t know what the fuck it is.) I found this ridiculous. I stood there, watching my brother enjoy my ipod, while my family stood around him congratulating him on something.
Maybe I misunderstood the situation. Maybe it was a pickmeup because my brother felt down. Maybe he did something amazing for my parents and this was just the gift in return. Of course, they couldn’t grace me with an explanation of any sort. I was just excluded from the picture. And to add salt to the wounds, as they saw me looking at the new ipod, my dad says “You didn’t want one right?”.
Well, let me just say, to my dad’s credit he did consider getting one for me at another point in time. A few weeks later I was helping him buy a cable for his computer printer, and he turns to me as we pass by the bestbuy ipod stand and asked, “You don’t want an ipod right?”. My parents love to do this. I know people use this as a tactic. They kind of ask you if you want something, but hint that you should say no. Like when my parents bought me my cheap ass bed frame that didn’t work. A week later after I had labored in fixing it and making it sturdy enough, they said to me “You don’t need a new frame right? I could go buy you a new frame if you wanted. If this one isn’t good enough.” I would like to believe that they are actually genuine when they say this. Well they’re not. I am not wrong. There is no margin for error here. I know EXACTLY what they mean. It makes me say “No, I don’t need a new bed”. I have to say it. That’s how they work. Guilt is their ultimate weapon.
This leads to my next point.
‘My family and I’ (I feel awkward typing this now, it feels wrong.) from time to time go out to eat. We visit various korean restaraunts and other places for food. It’s a good experience, and we have a good time. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with that right? OH but there is. Of course there is. There always is. Today, my mom asks me “You’re not hungry right?”. Loaded question. I know exactly what she’s asking.
Translation : We’re going out with the family to eat, and I don’t want you to come. You should say yes, that you’re not hungry, so I can leave you here with a good conscience, and never think that I’m a bad parent.
She’s asked this before. She’s even once cooked me a small meal beforehand, so I could not say I was hungry. Then she’d accuse me of eating too much. So I hesitantly say I’m not hungry and she walks away. Right afterwards, I ask them where they’re going, because I am curious. She says a korean restaraunt. Then after a moment, she turns to me and asks “Why, you want to come?.”
Seriously? I’ve always been included in these family dinners. I enjoy them. I’m not rude or mean at any of them. And yet I’m excluded. What the fuck? Well maybe I’m blind here too. Maybe I’ve done something to them that makes them not want to take me places to eat as a family. I wish they would tell me, because I don’t know what the FUCK it is. I don’t know. It’s always the fucking same. Some retarded reason they’ve come up with, to justify their need to pamper their first born and treat me like shit.
When I NEED something, like my jacket fixed, my mom tells me, “it’s too expensive. i’ll do it later .(because an ipod is a more justifiable purchase)” The zipper on my winter jacket is broken. Cold air comes in. It sucks ass. My parents always tell me, “if you ever need something, ask”. Yeah fuck you too. Every time I need something, you make an excuse. I wish they would just straight up tell me things, and not lie and fucking beat around the bush. Grow a pair and tell it to my face. Tell me why. Why you’re not including me, why you seem to ignore me, and why you always hide things from me. Why you prefer my brother over me, and why you are always dissapointed in me. It never matters what I do. I hate comparing myself to my brother but I can’t help it. I help around the house. I clean up, I shovel snow and move things from the car into the house. I usually dont’ care or complain. I don’t ask my parents for money unless I really need something (like a new bed, but in cases like that they’ll think I’ll make a bad purchase and go buy something cheap themselves), and I absolutely don’t do anything ‘bad’. However they always seem to find something to complain about.
My mom once yelled at me for no reason while I was eating dinner that I made by myself. She said something along the lines with “you’re such a bad son, why don’t you tell me what’s wrong with what I’m doing” What the hell? What’s wrong with her? I’ve never hinted anything like that. When she asks me to take the laundry downstairs I do it. When she asks me to do chores or fix things I do it. You know what this tells me? This tells me that she knows inside that she’s been wrong. That she’s been neglecting me all these fucking years. She just won’t admit it. She won’t admit that she favors my brother. “What am I doing wrong?” She yells this to me and MAKES it sound like it’s MY fault that SHE is doing something wrong. Only a korean mom could twist that around. Well, at least to her merit, this is bothering her. So it means that she does care. Well I know she does, she’s not a bad mom. She just needs to accept that the first son should get everything. That’s how the korean culture works. You pamper and nourish the first son. I’ve accepted it. Just don’t lie about it and dance around it. We all know that’s the truth.
For example, when my brother graduated from highschool and entered university he got a gift from my parents. We went to a lavish restaraunt and my dad gave him something. I don’t remember what it is. It may have been a watch. When I entered university, I got nothing. I’ve heard my parents call him the favorite. Who are they kidding? Just admit it and get over it. I have. Just don’t dance around things and try to sneak by me. It’s infuriating.
So I’m almost out of steam here. One more thing to get off my chest. My brother aside, there is another annoying issue my mom brings up. Honestly, my brother isn’t a bad person. He’s just been serviced his entire life that he’s used to not really having responsibilities at home. My parents are used to providing things for him. It’s a system and it works. I don’t blame him. For example (another example, yeesh), my parents were out for a night a few weeks ago. My brother decided to cook. After struggling to find where the pots and pans and ingredients were he made something. Then I cooked something as well. After we had eaten, he looked around and started delegating work. He told me to clean this, and put that away. He helped me by putting some saran wrap into the garbage. He watched a bit more tv and walked up stairs. I ended up washing the dishes and cleaning everything so my parents wouldn’t complain. He likes to take charge and believe that he’s helping and doing something. When infact he’s not. I doubt he could live on his own without getting a disease or possibly dying in his own filth.
Anyways, let’s get back on topic. My parents.
Fact 1. York University is on strike.
Fact 2. The strike ‘intended’ to end every week. What this means is that the strike could have ended every week since it had started. There were votes and talks and negotiations that occured often.
Fact 3. Everyone else is still in school.
With these facts in mind, what could I do? Getting a job was out of the question, as I would have lost it if school had started. No one had predicted the strike would last this long. My friends are all at different univerisites and out of town. What can I do? I slept in late, played around with friends when they did come in, and practiced guitar. And of course played a shitload of computer games. Every student on strike was doing this. My mom has the gall to come into my room every morning and tell me how much she hated me during this time. This is also a fact. This is not a lie. She would say every morning something along the lines of “you’re so lazy. why are you still sleeping. i don’t want to see your face. you should move out. find out if you can move out next year. you should live on campus. then you can do whatever you want. i don’t have to see your face when you sleep in. ”
Yeah, not a lie. What the hell. I acted like this didn’t bother me. I stood my ground and made it seem like I didn’t give a shit. Well I did. If anyone told you this, especially your parents, you would be devastated too. This was also another loaded question. My parents would ask “Are you going to move out next year?” “Are you going to live on residence?” They know I can’t. They know I can’t afford to live on residence. They know I don’t want to go MORE into debt at a school I could commute to. This not only happened during the strike, but any time I slept in for the past year (mostly during summer break). Everytime I slept in late (very late), I would get this hate speech. So a few months ago when it first started up I decided to call their bluff. I said sure. I said it would cost me around 800 monthly to get me to live on my own. I did the calculations. They said they couldn’t afford it. End of discussion right? They can’t afford it, and I can’t afford it, so there is nothing we can do. Nope, not end of discussion. Soon afterwards I kept getting the hate speech. “Why are you so lazy? Why are you sleeping in? (I didn’t have class that day), why are you always with your friends.” “You should move out. You should go on your own. I don’t have to see your face then.” “I can’t stand to see your face.” <- 100% correct translation and quoted. Not a lie. So if she knows I can’t move out why does she do this to me? What does it accomplish and what does it prove. I have my own theories about this.
So everytime I sleep in, I get this fucking annoying speech from my mother. That she’s disgusted in me. Dissapointed in me. That I’m worthless.
I don’t have the heart to tell them any of this. It would get me nowhere, and they would just find reasons to why these points are invalid. Totally random made up reasons. Then they would make it look like they are the victim and I would probably be delegated to being the family’s dog.
Oh wait, I already am.
On a side note, here is another example. When my brother didn’t attend church, my family tried hard to make him come. They would pick him up right before service started so he wouldn’t have to wait. After service he was guaranteed a ride back home right away. If he didn’t come to church my family would bug him. Whenever I went to church alone, I would have no choice at which time to arrive and leave. I would sometimes arrive 9am in the morning, till 4pm in the afternoon. All for a 2 hour service. I toughed it out. I made friends at church.
So now my brother has ‘his own life’ with a job and a car. He is supposed to drive me to church. This is what they told me when they bought the car. He can drive me, and we can always arrive on time. I’ve missed service almost every week for the past few months because I haven’t gotten a ride. I don’t think my brother wants me there. Whenever I was woken up to go to church I had the decency to let my brother know. That if he wanted to come along too, he should wake up now and get ready. Now, if my brother is driving, I have to be ready by his time. If I wake up a minute late, he’s already gone without me even as I am dressing. If I manage to get a ride my brother will stay and leave me to be alone at church for long hours while he goes out to eat and have fun. He tells my parents to drop me home. I’m friends with people at church. It would be no problem to bring me along. But he doesn’t. All the friends I’ve made at church are back to being my brother’s friends. No sharing. Granted, I made friends with older people, but it seems my brother has purposefully alienated me once he had “rejoined” the church. The glorious return of the prodigal son. He doesn’t want me to exist when he is there. So after all my diligence, all the relationships I’ve built up, once again I’m neglected. By my own brother who I’ve always been there for. When he’s had troubles, when he asks for help. I’m always fucking there. To pick up the pieces and rebuild.
My parents don’t care. They cared when he didn’t go to church, but when I miss out, they don’t care. A couple times my brother didn’t come home on saturday nights. That meant I had no ride to church. My parents told me each morning “I’ll come back to pick you up before service” (just like how they had treated my brother.) They have come back to pick me up zero times.
I am done. I think I am finally at peace now. Goodnight.
