Life Experiences: An Alcoholic Parent

Certain positions you’re in are able to teach lessons you never really wanted to learn.

Case in point: Being the child of an alcoholic parent.

When you have a parent who is an alcoholic, there are a lot of hushed words that are never cleared up. Direct communication is waived as a way to avoid conflict, which could actually help the situation if used correctly. Hurt feelings go without elaboration, and wounds become scars that somehow break and fester in the wake of new offenses. It’s tough when the other parent is not alcoholic, because they have had to struggle with this experience years before you were even thought of. You may refuse alcohol, becauseΒ what if I turn out like them?

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Filling the Gap

…by keeping busy,

coffee ice cream,

playing an MMORPG,

watching YouTube videos,

and trying to cultivate the motivation to clean my room.

These are all things that I try to fill the gap in my chest. It’s a feeling that empties my head of thought and saps me of happiness. I find it hard to express myself genuinely at such times, faking smiles and expressing emotion where there is no basis for either. I feel lonely, yet the thought of seeking out someone to sit next to isn’t something I necessarily want, either. I’m trying out everything that usually makes me happy in order to make myself feel better, but it’s not working—none of it is working. Such things stay in the chasm for a while, but they eventually slip out and I’m left empty again. The joy is fleeting and only lasts a little while.

In these times, I feel like a truly worthless human being.

 

How My Brain Works Against Itself

I’m up late again, thinking of all the things I want and need to do. If you’re curious to see how my brain compartmentalizes things, it happens in bullet points, like so:

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Needs vs. Fears

I have been lazy for the majority of my summer, and on one hand, I don’t regret it. I took on far too much last semester, and I had resolved to make my vacation between semesters as stress-free as possible.

On the other hand, I’ve been lazy for the majority of the summer. I’ve been waking up as late as five-o’-clock in the afternoon for the past few weeks, and I’ve gone through the same routine. I wake up, eat and/or watch YouTube videos, have dinner with my family, then either get straight back into watching videos or playing an MMORPG. I do sometimes add to the fan fiction I talked about in a previous post, but aside from dates with my boyfriend and errands with my mom, I don’t get out much. That ordinarily wouldn’t bother me, except that now…it does.

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Optimistic Nihilism and Frustration

The other day, there was an interesting looking video in my Recommended feed on YouTube. It was about something calledΒ optimistic nihilism, and although I’d heard about being nihilistic, I was curious to see how optimism could be incorporated into it.

Of course, my first reaction proved I had missed the point of the video. I felt hopeless, felt like my tiny speck of an existence didn’t matter and that everything I’ve ever done, said, or thought would mean nothing in the future. It wasn’t the first time I’d felt this small, though. The first time was in a Big History class when I first starting college; we studied history from the origins of the universe to the present day, and one thing that I took from that class was the knowledge thatΒ everything that is and ever was comprises far more than you ever will in your entire lifetime. It’s why I’ve felt pressure in classes to “reinvent the wheel,” to be innovative and memorable so that I won’t fade into oblivion as quickly. In this respect, I fear death–in the sense that I’ll live a life unfulfilled without any remaining chances to actually live.

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My Fan Fiction Writings…Online?

As clearly evidenced by the very existence of this blog, there is a record of things I’ve written on the Internet, already. It may not bring in unbelievable traffic, but I don’t intend to delete this stuff—it’s apart of the World Wide Web for the rest of time. I’m pretty sure even if I tried to delete it, some format of my writings wouldΒ still be accessible.

I say this because, while I write posts about things that I think about, as well as things that happen in my life, this isn’t necessarily recreational writing for me. While I enjoy typing up these posts, I’m referring to creative writing—fictionalized writing that comes from a part of my imagination that not a lot of people are privy to.

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