Suffocated
I used to loathe staying at home. It was always the same thing. I work, get home, eat with my parents, well, my dad mostly because my mom is workaholic and she often stays in the office later than usual.
My dad would always talk about the future and how I should find a job that secures my future.
I didn't have much life outside but I would often go out on the weekends with my friends. My parents would be furious. Especially, when I tell them I'll be home late and I've decided to sleep over at a friend's house because I refuse to commute late in the evening.
I hated home. It didn't feel like one. It was messy. I could only clean my stuff, I couldn't touch anything that was within my reach but wasn't mine.
My mom was a hoarder and she would yell at me if I ever try to clean her stuff so I stopped trying.
I would always be left at home, and when my dad comes back from work, I hated hearing him yell my name and then asking me to open the door. I didn't always understand, he has keys?!
I hated him yelling at me whenever he needs something.
I hated how my mom would ignore me at home. We just talk if she needed something. She would always work, would always talk about people at work, would always be at work.
Some time in 2021, I adopted a kitten called Ramen. Within a span of a year, she gave birth to 6 cute kittens. I told them to have the other ones adopted and retain the black one. But they decided to give the black one to my uncle and retain all the other ones. I was furious.
Two of the girls got pregnant again. There was a time we had 24 cats. I've begged them to have them adopted but my mom, again, was a hoarder. She said she didn't trust people and she'd rather take care of them. They blamed me for the mess at home. They said I brought Ramen, and so every cat that followed is on my conscience even when I begged them to give them away to other pet lovers and they get mad at me for suggesting.
That was my last straw. I was beng gaslighted all the time. As the only child, and the youngest in the family, I could never say the right thing, I was always wrong. I learned how to disassociate and stop being present during dinner time altogether. I just put my headphones on and escape to my own world.
I wasn't happy, so when I turned 26, I decided to move out.
I found peace.
I could breathe again. I couldn't be bothered to leave my apartment. I was alone, in my own world.
I wanted to get away from my parents, it worked for my mental health.
My dad was still pissed about it. How I was just playing pretend and wasting money. I didn't even bother explaining.
That's the same year I started a relationship with my now fiancé.
The year after, my fiancé visited us here to meet them and my friends. That same year, I flew to his country to meet his. I stayed longer than I was supposed to because I can.
I felt love in that country more than I ever did at home, it depressed me.
My parents cried at the airport. I did too.
The first time I met my fiancé's mother, I cried of how different she was from my mom. She was very loving.
I missed my dad so much when I was away, and I would call him whenever I can, and he would call me whenever he could.
I went away for almost a year. Now that I'm alone living by myself, I'm suddenly depressed again.
I missed my dad.
Now that I'm getting married and planning to live on the opposite side of the globe, I'm starting to get nostalgic of all the things I hated.
My complicated relationship with my mom, is something I've already accepted, but my dad's unconditional love is beyond what I could ever hope to give my future kid.
I am not saying my mom doesn't love me. She does, in a weird non-chalant angry way. I love her in a very awkward passive-aggressive way.
I wanted to move closer to them before flying but the dogs have taken my place.