Warnings: tough family from the perspective of a mentally ill adultolescent, mention of hypothetical homicide, suicidal contemplation

Journal entry 105

I wish I knew what to do. I always knew my family wants nothing to do with me, but hearing my mom say she wants to kill me makes me feel...actually, I don't know what to feel. After a lot of what had happened (being the scapegoat of my parents' stress, prompting hallucinations of reactions that weren't going to happen, etc.), I don't know what was the first thing that ruined my day.

About my mom, well, I don't know if I should call her that anymore. This is the umpteenth time she justified my suspicions that she's mentally ill; if she really is, that would explain a lot about me. She needs serious counseling if it means she'll stop expecting the worst from me. She was the one who informed me of the word for what was wrong with me and, yet, she still finds it in herself to forget that I see things differently from her. For example, when she wants to fight with me, what I see as defending myself and proving I'm a person as well is, in her eyes, me attempting to stab her in her pride. I was telling a story on the phone to the only relative I could turn to and...she went completely nuts about how I say things and how people interpret things. When she came back to berate me, I dare go against her claims in her tone in the hopes of her listening to me. She heard me, but all she heard was "I am against you, please assault me". If not for baby Remus in her arms, she probably would've fulfilled her fantasy as long as she wouldn't have to deal with me anymore. Sure, there are times where we get along, but there's always a voice at the back of my head that tells me she would prefer if I was everything I wasn't.

There's no way I can turn to Mitchell, my stepfather. Unlike the past guy, he's good to my mom, but he doesn't really know me. We haven't known each other for so long and the times we do somewhat chat, he, well, isn't necessarily bright, but isn't dim either. He, like her, sees me as a liability below both of them even though I'm in my early 20s, so I might as well suffer with questioning my self worth (suffering they both contribute to) than turn to him for help.

My teenage brother, Derek, wouldn't exactly be helpful. He has a bad habit of lying and being condescending 24/7. It's not entirely my fault we have different school lives and he's more outgoing and athletic. We have had our feud for years with rare moments where we actually get along. He's also really aggressive, so if she wanted him to murder me in my sleep, she wouldn't even have to pay him for it.

I never asked to be the scapegoat or black sheep of the family, if I can even call it that nowadays. I'm 22, only one place ever hired me no matter how hard I tried to apply, and my own mental health issues are keeping me from running away from home. Even as online classes are coming back after the extended Spring Break, I'm still a waste of space. Maybe if the freelance writing route I'm trying made as much money in a year as Pewdiepie does in a week, then she'd think twice about what I am to her. I'm stuck in many ruts and one of them is suffering so much to contemplate putting myself out of my misery and being too weak to actually do anything about it (probably how Dan felt while closeted and assaulted). I have friends willing to listen, but they're not close enough to provide actual shoulders for me to cry on and I struggle to get the right words out verbally.

TL;DR If this is how quarantine will be, it finally broke one introvert.