Out of all the human beings on this earth, I have the most difficulty socializing with them, being honest with them, having fun with them, and sometimes tolerating them. All of this fucking disgusts me.
I do not feel at home at home. Sometimes I feel like I have multiple personalities or a lack thereof. I can be loud and funny and happy with my friends but at home I am reserved and quiet and sometimes condescending. My family really doesn't know me that well.
My parents are divorced and have been for about 5 years. Both parents support me with a place to live, a car, insurance and phone. I pay all my other shit. When I blunder in one of my relationships with them, I am threatened to be cut off and my belongings "thrown in the street."
Recently I lied to my mother about my plans for a weekend. I planned on going to a music festival, she thought I was at a friend's lake house. At the very beginning of the trip I felt that she needed to know what was going on. It took me until a little past halfway through to call her and tell her. I had no intention of hurting her or my relationship with her. I did both. In fucking spades. I simply felt that she would say no and have a negative attitude towards this so it was easier to avoid it. She called me a coward. I agreed.
I feel like absolute fucking shit. Both of my little brothers (my only siblings) no longer respect me. Both of my parents have been skeptical of my entire character since about a year and a half ago. They disagreed virtually whole heartedly with my lifestyle when I was living away from home.
My first semester of college did not go well for me socially. I didn't make too many friends and I was very depressed with myself and my personality. A part of myself blamed my upbringing and how I was raised (I had a really unhappy childhood). I did not like thinking this yet I fucking embraced it. Since then I think I have held in a lot of negative feelings and thoughts towards my parents. I do not want to agree with or even confirm the existence of these feelings but they are there. I just shoveled the blame for my fucking depression, social anxiety, and confusion right onto them.
I don't even know where to start and stop all this shit I am writing. I just want to be myself at home. I want to be open and have conversations with my fucking family. What the fuck am I doing wrong? I feel like I am a much different person than my family members but that doesn't mean we can't get along.
god dammit I needed to write that shit, no cliffs just read it; it's not that long