A sense of loneliness. In past years, I have filled this time with online buddies. Namely, ComicFury residents. (Who make up half my blog readership.) But I'm looking around for them right now, and not getting any real bites. Meaning, I'm not having the same chat, the same live experience, as I normally do.
I'm in that zone where I'm feeling a bit...isolated. Everyone is doing their own thing this year. Their thing seems to be separated from the community that I live on. And while that's good for them and I wouldn't wish it any other way (because it means they are happy with their lives), it doesn't change the fact that out here, I feel a bit exposed, with nowhere to go.
And I have only myself to blame, because there's been some isolation on my end. I've been drifting apart from the communities somewhat, so I can't say that there isn't any community left for me to find. I'm sure they're there. I just...haven't kept in as close a touch as necessary to be with them. And so, I'm...not.
I'm mostly celebrating with drinks. Chocolate milk warmed up in a microwave. A coke can. At midnight I'll open up a bottled coke (the kind found only at Costco which is directly imported from Mexico--real sugar instead of artificial sugar, but far less carbonation), to substitute for the old family tradition of cider (which I can't drink so much as half a bottle alone), and...that'll be it.
I also learned prior to my family leaving some more stuff which saddens me. To some extent, I'm honestly not expecting my dad to live too terribly long--he's only 66, and it's not like he does drugs, drinks alcohol, smokes, or any of those things. But he doesn't exercise, he eats a ridiculously large amount, he's notably fat, and honestly he looks and feels older than my grandfather was in my earliest memories. (Those being, 16 years ago, when my grandfather was in his 80s.)
Part of me actively wishes he were gone--that sounds absolutely horrible to say, but when you understand how bigoted and close-minded he is, and how much that conflicts with my daily existence, you might be able to better understand where I'm coming from there. This is the guy who had a best friend, and when that best friend came out as being gay, he never spoke of him ever again. Said friend died in the Vietnam War, and yet as far as my dad was concerned that was a good thing because the friend to him was dead long before then.
I just am at the stage of my life where I know I cannot ever come out while living in his house. And yet, I feel hopelessly far away from being able to find one of my own, thanks to that thing of me being...well, largely...alone. (Everything I talk about in this blog post is related, even if it doesn't initially appear that way.) So it's not as if I actively wish he were dead, so much as it is...
...I don't think I'll ever be able to so much as start transitioning until he is dead. So all that unhealthy stuff that he does, which in many ways disgusts me, I sometimes see as being something which could lead to me being, well...more free. Less trapped. Able to open myself up to the world, and to show them who I really am.
...Yet all the same. Today, that thing I learned was that a good mutual friend of my older siblings (both my brother and older sister), who for as long as we've known them was identified as male, came out (apparently last year!) as being a transwoman. (More than that, lesbian transwoman. She even has a daughter.)
When I heard the news, instantly I left the room. I didn't want to hear my family's discussion there. The best of it would be born of ignorance. The worst of it...well, still ignorance. But far worse than simple ignorance. (Keep in mind, my mother knows about me and my older sister has at least one other transwoman friend.) Even then. I caught wind of language usage I cringed at. "Decided they were a woman". "Transvestite". Referring to the person by "he". Using their old name. (Well to be fair. It's always possible to be trans and keep the old name. But as far as I know, transwomen keeping their old name are in the minority unless said name is androgynous/bigender. So I kind-of assume that she has a new name, and that they weren't using it.) The like.
And this was relevant, because my older sister brought it up as a potential (and now I think even probable) reason that my brother has lost interest at attending their group's getogethers (including one tonight). My older siblings have a tight-nit group of friends, like six or seven or so total, who have maintained active communication throughout many years, who largely went to the same school and were the same age and basically, had a full social circle, one which they continue to actively uphold even while some of them now live out of state.
My brother, and according to my sister, this is a recent change, has started to become more distant from them all. And my sister believes it to be because he would be avoiding the friend that came out. Which in this case...would be like father like son.
And while my brother doesn't live at home.
It still means that the influence of my father will last even after he is gone. (Which could be as late as 20 years from now. I don't see my dad living to be old as my grandfather currently is, because while my grandfather is less physically active than he used to be 16 years ago, he still was active even in his 80s whereas my dad is not. My grandfather maintained a healthy weight, whereas my dad is in denial about his, insisting he's healthy when he's clearly overweight and just by looking at him you can tell he is. So I don't see him hitting the 90s. He could theoretically live to his 80s though, even though with his current lifestyle that's not so likely.)
And that's what I guess bothers me most. It's just...so troubling. Knowing that right now, I'm basically alone. Literally at the moment, but figuratively only having half the family available as support. (Assuming my sisters both count, and assuming my mother fully supports me. I know she half-does, but fully? And completely?)
No friends to be with. Nothing. It's just...emptiness. And that's a very scary thing. I told my family when they left, "I'll manage". And I thought I would. I thought I'd be fine, that I'd be okay. But I'm not really feeling okay. I said it'd be "the usual", but it's not; it's less than the usual. So whether intentionally or accidentally, I lied.
In many ways, this is worse than Christmas for me. On Christmas, I had the happiness of family. It was happiness which relies on a lie, yes. It was also scary happiness, born of my fear of being found out isolated from any possible form of support. But all the same, I was happy that day.
Here...here I have all the bad I had before, and yet none of the good. So I am...really, really feeling...empty right now. Scared, alone, and wishing I had someone around to give me a hug. I mean, aside from the animals. Our dog's asleep, I don't know where our kitten is and she's already offered me some support, but...it's just not the same, you know, as having an actual person that I can talk to.
I just want to talk to people.
It doesn't have to be face-to-face; it can be in a chat.
It doesn't have to last until my midnight (which I know is later than most).
I just want to have it.
And right now...I don't.
I can talk to people in text plenty.
But by the time that I get replies, the feelings I was talking about have already faded.