My brother broke my heart.
He didn’t mean to. He was trying to help me. But it tore my heart to pieces.
Because of depression, I struggle with a lot of things. Mostly money. I just want things. And since I work my ass off at the stupid department store, I feel like I can afford them. But I really can’t. And I just get into more debt than I’m in already from going to college. My want is so strong that I can’t control it. I will be crying as I’m buying the thing because I regret it a LOT, but not enough to not buy it or to take it back. So, my parents have my card. They pay my bills and I pay them.
One day, I was complaining about not having my card with a friend. She was agreeing with me and everything–even egging me on. But it wasn’t enough that my friend (that my parents don’t like) agreed with me. I wanted someone in the family to tell them how I’m an adult, and it’s my money and my problem, etc. My sister has a lot on her plate right now, so I went to my brother.
He admitted that in his eyes, at least, I’m being a child. I’m not taking care of my own life. I’m letting Mom and Dad take care of me. He was out of the house by my age. Etc.
Can you imagine, trying so hard to be an adult in a house that treats you like a child, to be hearing that from your big brother?
…Maybe he’s right. Maybe I’ll never grow up. Fuckin’ depression.