Yearning To Be Heard!

So. My brother and I haven't always gotten along. Still, he's the first fellow child I knew until I met my mom's friend's daughter. We'd talk about candy, about what beauty means, about episodes of Spongebob or Arthur or Fairly Odd Parents or what-have-you. When we got older, we'd talk about how many Diary Of A Wimpy Kid books we've actually read, and the colour of our bile. I also got to experience Need For Speed, Stick Run, and GTA San Andreas, much to my chagrin.

We didn't always get along: I'd find my way into his stuff, and he'd get mad at me about it. I'd barge in when he was with friends, and he'd get annoyed. I'd hack his profile on video games and he'd find out about it! But what made him the most mad was when I'd get "special treatment." You see, I happen to be of the other sex, and naturally, parents treat boys and girls differently. I also got away with a lot of crap as the youngest, so that might be a contributing factor as well.

He was upset that I'd always get stuff from my mom's work, things like clothes and rollerblades. But then, he got some Tony Hawk game and was so excited, bragging in my face about how he finally got something and I didn't, and then it turned out the disk was scratched or something. And in my mind, my mom definitely doted on me, as did my dad. I was their precious little girl, the first girl in the midst of boy cousins. 

In my head, it made me think, "If he had liked clothes more, would my mom have bought more for him? If he hadn't insisted on the same type of sweatpants, would he have received jeans, cargo pants, or pajama pants? He didn't even sleep in pajamas." Not verbatim, but it was something like that, I'm sure. 

Anyway, he tried to get me into trouble for crap. He found it funny, entertaining even, to see me lose my composure to crap. He'd catch me "smiling" when my mom cussed so I could get in trouble. He'd make fun of my interest in Roblox games and accused me of dating my Roblox friends, doing bad things in the game, being inappropriate, etc. While I was inappropriate, and very much so at times, it infuriated me how he wanted to get me into trouble at any cost. It also made me hyper-aware of doing things wrong, getting in trouble for crap, and being judged for things I like/enjoy.

This leads to what happened today. I really wanted to experience a game I never got to play when I was younger 'cause 1) not interested in shooting games yet, 2) not really interested in games in general, and 3) experienced a very lucky find at the thrift store. I was already obsessed with the sequel, so I might as well experience what the first one had to offer. So, a month back, I grabbed this Xbox 360 from storage and downloaded the bajillion compatibility packs because of course it's a huge game, and then I get started! I played it for a little while, and then I stopped, because my mom needed her computer monitor back.

Today, he knocks on my door and asks if I took his Xbox. I say "Yes, I did." 

"Why?" he asked, an odd look forming on his face I couldn't discern.

"I wanted to play a game on it." I went up to grab it and get him out of my sight, because I really didn't want to talk about the damn game. I didn't want to talk to him about it, because I was worried he would judge me for playing it, and I was worried I would get into trouble with my mother about it (she knew why I needed the monitor, and she assumed he forgot it existed). 

"What game?" he asked. He always asks questions.

"Destiny."

"Oh. What did you do in Destiny?"

"Stuff." 

So yeah, I love Destiny 2 and the original Destiny, but I'm not gonna let my brother know that. He has no reason to be mad at me because I logged into my own Microsoft account and didn't delete ANYTHING from the hard drive, not even the bajillion Miis he made for all his elementary school friends. He wasn't even using it until he mentioned it, and I just gave it back to him because I didn't wanna freaking talk about it. It was *his* console, after all. He bought it with his Christmas money 13 years ago.

The problem is: I still feel so guilty. I feel like I'm a dog that was caught eating my own poop and got scolded by my owner. But if I'm an adult, and I can control my own things, then why do I feel like I'm going to get in trouble? Most of all, why do I feel like I am going to be judged and asked constant questions about enjoying a game?

Trigger warning for depression and suicidal thoughts.

Today has been one of those days where I've done all I can to make myself feel okay, but nothing has been working so far. I've been switching between one video game and the current show I'm watching, quitting when I feel my mind drifting elsewhere. 

This is the list of things I did:

1. Read outside while in the sun for 40 minutes or so. 
2. Played with my dog for 30 minutes. 
3. Cleaned my desk and bookshelf. 
4. Made my bed.
5. Ate an apple and kept the seeds for later.
6. Ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and even had some nachos because I had a very small dinner. 
7. Washed my face and hands. Shampooed my hair (didn't condition). 
8. Meditated. Listened to music/a frequency that said it would help.
9. Doodled about how I'm feeling, because words were not enough. 
10. Put away my clean clothes, preparing to do laundry tomorrow. 
11. Worked on making a to-do list for tomorrow and checking off some items now.

Still, thoughts lingered in my head about my own patheticness. I know I'm not pathetic, and I don't want to identify as pathetic, but my brain still likes to repeat how pathetic I am because I'm not doing all the successful things other people are doing, i.e. working, school, making costumes for Renaissance faires, doing D&D with friends, balancing their priorities with life. And here I am, applauding myself for getting through the day, sending that e-mail back for that marketing thing on here, taking my meds, talking about how I'm feeling, and writing three sentences for my current story. 

Comparing yourself to non-depressed people only makes things worse. I believe I'll get back to that point where I'm thriving, but today is not the day. So, I'm gonna chill and not think about how much I want to yell at people for not being depressed. Maybe.

I think a lot about how my mental health issues came distinctly from my parents. In my childhood, it feels like my mom was constantly stressed out about money and *** - and she still is. She'd always lose her keys and panic. She'd lose her wallet, forget her tooth, forget to buy some important ingredient at the grocery store, and panic. She'd see a bill for something, and panic. She'd hear about me getting sedated to get a copper IUD, and panic. "Money, money, money is all she cares about," my dad says, and honestly, I'm starting to believe him. 

I went into my field of study because I didn't want to have to worry about money. I wanted to have enough to pay for my necessities, maybe some hobby items, and enough left over to save for emergencies. The reality is, though, will I still be free from the grip of money? Will I be striving for more and more capital because it means I can do more things? 

Trigger warning in case anyone's reading this. I talk about self-hatred and all the gnarly parts about disability, I probably mention suicide at some point as well. 

Struggling with mental health again, specifically with the thoughts of, "I repel people" and "I hate being autistic" and "I hate my disability" and etc etc. This is interesting because I know what caused this: I'm comparing myself to others, thinking about my relationship and how my partner does not always message first to do things with each other, thinking about how my freind hasn't responded to one of my texts yet, etc etc etc. I think I was going to say some f-bombs at some point, but I'm fine now.