You know what’s funny? everything.
And with good reason too, if not then we’d have probably all killed ourselves 9 times over already. Life throws situations, tragedies, experiences our way and each is a test to see just how well we’re dealing with life. If you’ve read any of my other blog entries, specifically the “my life on anti-depressants” entries, then you’d know that for a long time my day job was making me extremely depressed and suicidal. If you haven’t read it, congratulations, you’re either a stranger or the majority of my family.
Well just under a month ago I quit that job, mainly because of the aforementioned suicidal tendencies cropping up within my solitary mind, but also to further my dream of being a stand up comedian. Since quitting I’ve been substantially more relaxed, excluding the overwhelming fear of not getting another day job and failing to pay rent or my bills resulting in a somewhat more “free range” living arrangement, however I’m laughing off the fears for now. At least, during my waking hours I am.
There’s another problem though, and I guess it stems from that comment I made earlier in this post. My parents haven’t read this blog, and for ages I wanted that. I didn’t want them knowing what I was going through. Then one day I received a phone call from my mum who had heard from an aunt that I was suffering from depression. I semi-confirmed this but told her that anyone could read about this on my blog. As far as I know this blog has not been read by any of my immediate family. This was approximately 2-3 months ago. This was before I quit my job. Fast forward to the last time I heard from my parents, 2 weeks ago on a ten minute phone call. This was a few days after I’d quit my job, which I did call them to tell them about immediately.
Now here’s the thing, I’m not for one second saying they did a bad job raising me or my sister but as I’m now 27 I kind of feel like they felt their job was done almost immediately after I moved out 3 years ago. And if my life was going the way I wanted it too then great, but the fact is it isn’t. All I know is if I had a child (which I never will) that I found out had been depressed, or was still depressed, I would make sure every day that I knew that child was ok whether that was a text, email, phone call, visit, anything.
The problem with arguing with parents is you immediately feel ungrateful for the fact they raised you. Or at least I do, I feel like anything I say to them will make me sound like a spoilt brat. Honestly I don’t know how to deal with this situation, I don’t know what to do. I still feel like crying every time I think of the relationship I have with my parents. I know it probably seems ridiculous but for example, I’ve lived here in London now for 3 and a half years, and to never have them visit when they’ve been to this great city many times for other reasons, during that time too! Combine that with the lack of birthday card for my 27th birthday, the lack of contact in the last fortnight, the lack of reading this blog, the lack of what feels like any real care anymore or interest in my life and it breaks my fucking heart.
The relationship with them has definitely changed and I’d give anything to have it be a normal one again, I see my housemates parents visiting (one of my housemates parents even live in Canada) and they have a great time together, I just start to sort of compare. I’m fully aware I shouldn’t do that but it’s got to that point. I know for a fact my parents can’t have not noticed a change in me, we don’t talk when I do visit really. It’s just so hard. And I feel scared and alone in the world without them. I should be able to handle it alone and maybe that’s what they’re trying to make me do but even as I’m writing this I’ve starting crying over something I can’t even put in to words. And then I just find myself getting angry.
This is less of a blog entry more of a rant. I may even delete this. But the fact is if I can’t laugh at this then what else is there to do. Cry I guess. Try and talk to them about it? No. I can’t. For now this is going to have to remain between me, my website, and the maybe one reader this will get.
Peace out,
Go hug your family.
Jake.
Jake Pickford 