I read this somewhere-

I have this weird thought coming in.
So I love hearing people's story about their families. There's this sense of happiness-I-never-felt-before about it. And I really crave for that feeling.

At the same time, I don't want to be associated with my family. I've cut off with my brother and and his family already. I don't like them as 'people'. A few close friends give me that sense of satisfaction. And it extends to my hatred towards my family even more.

When I hear people talking about their happy families, I look back at mine. When I was young. A good social life with parents. School and studies. Music and dance. But everything changed. As I lost my dad. I couldn't grieve. Maybe that's why I long for grief. I find grief and grief finds me, always.

I want to be left alone, with no association of childhood. No mom, no siblings, no family. I wish their absence. I might be dark, this is what I am.

If they can’t be absent, I resent my presence. It’s the disgusted feeling of dreading your visit to the dentist.

I want to have my own family. The warm silent solitude home. The deepest baby sleep. And not to carry forward what I had, a guarded protected sense of life.

I read it somewhere. Hope someone connects to it.


Existential Crisis.