Black Sheep

I’ve always known I was the black sheep of the family. I mean, seriously… I’m bisexual, I suffer from eating disorders, I have a history of self-injuring and suicidal thoughts and attempts, I’m independent. My family is homophobic. They don’t understand mental illness very well. Anxiety runs in the family, but that is about it.

My family doesn’t know much about me. If they do know about the self-injuring, suicidal, the rape and assault, and things of that nature then they have never spoken to me about them. They know about the eating disorders, but never talked to me about them. They don’t know about the depression or the anxiety.

When I first got divorced, my mom tried to “help” me by telling me how to do financial things – paying bills, property taxes, income taxes – thing is, I knew all of that. I did the finances in our marriage. I did not ask for help to get a loan for my house. I have stopped asking for them to come see my daughter’s activities – they never come. I do not ask for help with my car. I have joked about if they have an extra car, I could really use one. But, when they come across a car, who gets it? Not me. The middle child gets it every time.

When I bought my current car a couple of years ago, my parents found a car. The middle child got that car. It lasted for a year or so before “he” wrecked it. They found “him” another car. Again, that one got totaled.

Our grandfather – the one with stage 4 cancer – gave the middle child his truck. I could have used the truck… The middle child had that truck for a few months. I was scrolling on social media today, and seen a picture of “him” in the hospital. “He” rolled the truck over. This is now five vehicles that “he” has totaled.

Just so you know, overall, “he” is fine – I guess. This is just by what I read online. Again, I probably will not be told anything about the situation. “He” will have to wear a brace for a while.

I know I don’t sound sympathetic for the middle child. I know that is horrible of me. But, this is a common occurrence. “He” is always in a wreck, or getting injured. “He” is always having something wrong and needing medication. Yeah, guess I’m over it. We’re not close. I haven’t seen “him” since maybe Christmas of last year.

I know they will find “him” another vehicle. I know “he” will continue to play the victim. “He” will continue to get everything handed to “him.”

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