It's hard being a ninja

Not a literal ninja, of course, but a figurative one.

I'm feeling dense. I thought how I meant the word "dense" was simple, but sometimes it's nice to have it explained. In this context, "dense" or "thick" is one word for two emotions that are mixing. In most every case, it's usually a bitter sadness and stupidity or lethargy. Like being depressed but too dim to care.

It's not uncommon to feel like this, for me at least. There isn't a way to get around it, either, so it's best to just let it blow over.

But the whole point of this blog is basically diary-ish in nature, so what the hey! Today I'm feeling dense because I feel like the only mentally stable person in the family, and I'm not that stable. My uncle has bipolar disorder and when off his meds, is quite nightmarish. He alternates between "I'm going to kill you" and "I'm going to kill myself," which leaves everyone on edge. Strangely, I've never seen him have an up or a high from his disorder, but I'd rather not see any of it. That doesn't mean I don't want to help him or whatever, it means the exact opposite. At some point, though, I realized both my uncle and I are the family's blacksheep, to be chastised and ridiculed.

Yes, boo-hoo-woe-is-me. While we're there, my grandmother will not talk to me about anything serious. For example, I've been living here a few months and my cousin kept bringing up food stamps and how me and my uncle should apply for them and all that. My cousin has very little to do with the goings on in the house, so I really didn't listen to her. In fact, I ignore her on principle. She's a selfish, childish manipulator, whether she realizes it or not (and how could she not, really?) whose main concern is how others can help her; when she doesn't get her way, she throws a high pitched hissy fit and threatens to take away contact with her and/or her son (which is particularly scary for my grandmother); she uses others' emotional connections to her in the worst possible ways.

Oh, yes, but food stamps. My grandmother didn't mention any of it to me, not once, ever. But of course, she talks about it to everyone in the family besides me, so I get to hear everyone's indignant, down-their-nose rantings about how "I'm inconsiderate" and "taking my grandmother's care for granted."

Ugh! Where to I begin. I could say, safely, that my grandmother's the only person I sincerely care about. Everyone else feels like an obligation; I care about them because they're my blood. I didn't want to come home. I wanted to keep working my shitty job so long as I could be as far away from people like my cousin as possible. She convinced me that it'd be best if I just came home.

I regretted it immediately, and still do. I left this place for a reason. I left because I didn't want to have my every action analyzed and sent to everyone in the mailing list, such as my cousin and mother. I want to be alone again.