It Must Be Me

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It's been a while since I've written.

I graduated.

I got a job in my field (kinda).

And I moved home.
But it isn't home.

 Where people love you unconditionally.

 Where they do things for you because they love you.

 Where they accept you for you and all your weird quirks.

 Where they treat you like a member, not an outcast.

 Where you don't have to hide.
This place is an asylum.

 Where they love you if you fit their standards.

 Where they do things for you, then lord it over you like you owe them for their gifts.

 Where they make fun of everything, you like or enjoy.

 Where they bully you, blame you for it and then laugh it off because "it was just a joke."

 Where you have to hide part of yourself for fear of rejection.

 I am suffocating.

 I'm drowning.
I want to die.
I have gone from being (and I quote), "the happiest I've ever seen you, to back when you were in high school, and you told me you wanted to kill yourself."

Heh.

It's probably my own fault anyway.

I'm the one who doesn't find their jokes funny.

I'm the one who reacts badly

I'm the one who doesn't fit.

I'm the one who always cries.

 It must be me.
Right?

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