My fault? Fuck you.

Someone recently told me that I choose to be alone. That there are plenty of people who love me and are with me, and it is my fault if I feel alone.

So let me break this down a little bit.

On the top level, the most visible level, what people can actually see of my life, I am not alone. I live with my father, my dog and my cat. I have a wonderful grandmother and grandfather and brother and sister-in-law and nephew and aunts and uncles and cousins who love me. So, you got me, I am physically able to be around people.

Ok. "Not alone" ends there.

On the most recent level-
Since my mother died, all I have wanted was someone to hold me while I cry. I cry every night. (Don't kid yourself if you think I don't.) I've wanted someone to be there and listen to me and hold me. Initially, I pushed that person away, because that's what I do. I push the people who really care away. If I'm close to you, I push you away when I need you. I admit this. I'm not saying it's good or I should keep doing it, but it's what I do, and it's what I've done forever. Go ahead and think "well if you push them away, it's your fault." And as you think that, delete me from your life because I don't need your negativity. I have enough of my own. So now that I have someone will hold me and listen to me, he's not here to do it. So, I am alone. I am lonely when I lay in bed at night, crying myself to sleep. I am lonely.

On a not-so-recent, more like my entire life, level-
Yes, I live with my dad. I have basically always lived with my dad. However, it is more common for it to snow in Alabama than it is for my dad and I to have a conversation. The last time my dad said, "Hey, how was your day?" If he ever has, it was so long ago I don't remember. The last time my dad said, "How was work?" LOL. Yeah, not so much. We can easily go over a week without saying "I love you", and that is more common than actually saying it. Ok so here comes the "well, why don't you talk to him?" questions. Your answer: I do. I have told him that I want him to ask me these things. I have told him I wante him to ask about my feelings. I ask him how his golf game was or whatever activity he is doing. He may ask for a couple of days, and then it's back to normal. No more talking. God forbid we we talk about something that actually matters, like how I miss my mom, or how I just want to die. Yeah, that's not how we Arsenault's do things. We just bottle it all up. Which leads me to my next level.

I have been "alone" since I was little. Most kids have memories of playing at the park or watching movies as a family or what not (I really don't know what examples to give, so I'm guessing based off my nephew's life). Yeah, I don't have those. My earliest memory: my parents yelling and screaming and fighting. Memories after that: being in my room, by myself, playing, by myself. Don't get me wrong, if it was daytime, I would often be with my little friends outside, but if I was home, I was alone. I do have one memory of sitting on the couch with my mom and looking through my 4th grade history book the first night I had it. I was amazed because it was brand new, and it was Alabama history. I think about that memory often. I can still hear her oohing over the pictures.

I didn't have a mom that I played hair salon or barbies with. I never had the girls night of movies or helping her make dinner. I didn't have my mom there when I picked out my homecoming dress or prom dresses. I didn't have my mom's shoulder to cry on when my boyfriend was mean to me or my friends were ignoring me. I didn't have my mom help me get ready for the first day of my senior year or with me at senior portraits. I didn't have my mom with me at graduation, because she got drunk and called me right after I had walked to tell me. My mom wasn't there the day I moved to Tuscaloosa. My mom wasn't there the day I moved back from Tuscaloosa. I did all of that stuff alone. Yeah, someone may have been with me, but it wasn't the right person, not the person I would have picked if I could have picked. How can anyone tell me I'm not alone when I didn't have my mother? How is a girl not alone when she doesn't have a mother?

When I was little, my dad could look at me the wrong way and make me cry. If he yelled at me, oh, it was over with. He would get mad at me for something and tell me to have the entire house clean by the time he got home. We lived in a HUGE house. I was, like, 11. Then he got married, and divorced, and it was my fault. I was the reason he got divorced. That's when all communication (which was very little before) ended. When I was 15, my mom almost died. I can't really tell you why, because no one told me. My father decided I wasn't old enough to handle it. That is, until I went in to see her by myself and the lovely nurse, who didn't know I didn't know, told me. I was so hurt. He actually lied about what was wrong with her. To this day, I don't understand it. But that's also when her alcoholism became real to me. That was also when I determined it was my fault. Some of my friends at school decided this would be a good time to hate me, as well. When I told my dad what they were doing, his response was, "Well what did you do to them? You must have done something." Because it is always my fault. Right after he said that was the first time I cut myself. I did it on my wrists, which I soon learned was a bad idea because people could see. I decided my hips were a better choice. I would take weight loss pills until I puked. My body would literally start reacting before I even took them. But I still did. That was my breakfast, lunch and dinner. Pills and puking. Tasty. My dad and I would go weeks in high school without speaking. Not for any particular reason, other than we couldn't stand each other. He would talk to Tigger right in front of me, but wouldn't recognize me standing there. I did stupid things. He would scream. Repeat.

Fast track to today. We still don't talk. We still fight. He still screams. I still cry. I do yell back now, sometimes though.


One more level. The spiritual level. I'm alone there too, have been for a while. For the record, I don't want to be. But I'm very angry. Very angry. I don't understand what I did to deserve two parents who don't know how to love me. I can't pray. I'm that angry. I don't feel like God is on my side. Period.


So next time you (the reader) wants to tell me it's my fault, please rethink your words. It is not my fault I am sad, because I don't want to feel this way. I want to be happy and be at peace with my childhood. I choose to have a differerent life from my parents. I choose to make decisions that will benefit me and my future. I don't choose to be sad.

By the way, you're being a judgemental asshole when you say that bullshit.