Tears held back as crying will just make me sick

|
|
|
|
|
   Back in 1999, I graduated from Canossa School with the 7th highest grades of the batch. Sure, I wasn't the salutatorian or the valedictorian. But I walked up the stage so many times that they had me stay up to receive awards twice in a row.

   I walked down and was greeted with congratulations and mild expressions of envy, as my batch-mates saw a glimpse of the person that I was.

   I walked to my parents. And here's what they said:

   "You could have done better."

   Better? By whose standards? Yours? You can't even measure up to those standards yet you punish me for not meeting that ever-rising and unattainable peak?

   Better? By what measure? I never did anything that passed your standards no matter what I did. It's always lacking. It didn't matter what it was, what I did was -ALWAYS- lacking.

   Better? By the same perspective that greeted the birth of more siblings as an increase in expenses instead of looking at the impending births as what they were? The same perspective that made me want to expunge my existence to alleviate the added cost of living? The same perspective that makes me reappraise every thought to prevent another suicidal plunge into self-destructive behavior?

   And my blood family wonders why I avoid their company. The same company that always finds me lacking. The same company that condemns me with standards that I can never satisfy. The same company that denies I have the right to even exist with their appraisal that it's their thoughts of me that matter while thoroughly disavowing mine.

   It was never enough. It is never enough. It will never be enough.

   Why won't you leave me alone when all you do to me is bludgeon me with words that put me down?

No comments: