Re: homesickness

When I was younger, I used to feel homesick. The last instance of homesickness I remember was during my thirteenth or fourteenth year.

When I felt homesick, I'd usually have an intense longing to be with my parents. I'd hug my mother and snuggle into bed beside her. I'd make her hug me (she wasn't very keen on hugs).

Sometimes I'd even feel homesick at home, so maybe it was just me missing my parents.

Anyway, I stopped feeling homesick some time ago. I stopped wanting that security blanket a long time ago. (I'm sixteen, bear with me. Fourteen was a long time ago.) I gather that my parents' presence was something along the lines of "you can stop worrying, we're here for you". But some time during 2011, it disappeared.

I didn't feel homesick. I didn't want my parents around. Instead I felt intensely, abjectly lonely, and thought that there'd never be anyone who would understand me as well as I would like them to... And if there was someone like that, I'd be completely creeped out. And that exacerbated the loneliness, really.

I didn't really think my my house as "home", not really. It was a place. I lived there, my parents lived there. There's a kitchen, three bedrooms, two bathrooms and a living room. I slept in my room.

That's it. I didn't think about the house in a sentimental way at all. It was all very pragmatic. I wasn't at all like those romantic heroines in old books, swooning and sighing over the meaning of "home" and whatnot. I just didn't care.

Slowly, that apathy extended to my parents. They gave birth to me, took care of me, gave me money and fed me. I was fond of them. I would be terribly upset if they died. Though I'd definitely move on fast enough. No point in mourning someone who can't appreciate it. What would be inconvenient was how I'd deal with being an orphan. Money? Parents? Where would I stay?

And then that apathy crept into my general life philosophy, not that it's a real philosophy. It's subject to changes, quite often. Anyway, I wasn't really prone to feeling deep emotions. For anyone, really. I alternated between being irritated by life, and being fond of the adorable friends I have. Compared to anger and love, that's pretty mild. I guess it's because I didn't want to hurt my feelings if we parted ways.

Yeah. I'm mostly concerned about myself.

I think nihilism comes close to describing my philosophy. Life was kind of... plain, sometimes, and if it had been easy to die, I think I would have done it. But it wasn't easy so I sort of drifted along.

I'm not even sure why I stopped feeling much (though I'm prone to bouts of melancholy, like crying over fanfiction and movies and sometimes just because I felt like crying) but looking back I think it was because of my parents.

I didn't see them that much every day, and their involvement in my life steadily decreased. I simply stopped needing them around. You know how babies need to be held up at first? But slowly they start standing by themselves. I think that's what happened with me.

In fact, we grew so distant that a year or two later, when they began involving themselves with my life again, I became irritated and resented their intrusion.

Let's have a break. I have to tell you about two very annoying habits that my parents have.

My mother criticizes everything I like. Just last night, when I told her "she sings well" (referring to Hyorin, a Korean idol) my mother started talking about how idols were only useful when they're young, how a pretty song can't fill your stomach, and all sorts of sour, bitter things. And then when I got angry, she had the gall to say that she hadn't said any unpleasant things.

My father likes to laugh sarcastically when he talks about serious things with me. When my teachers call him, or when we talk about schoolwork, sometimes he'll furrow his eyebrows in reply to me, and then he'll give this half-sigh half-laugh, like he thinks I'm really stupid and I'm so stupid that he doesn't even have the words for it.

Those two habits make me unhappy. More than that, they make me angry. I get really really angry. Those two habits of theirs never fail to make me angry. I suppose, consciously, I think things like "why can't you just appreciate things" and "can you just fucking tell me what it is".

But subconsciously I think I'm angry because those actions undermine my self-confidence and self-worth. I don't like talking to them because talking to them make me feels like a piece of shit stuck onto a pig's butt. In two seconds I am downgraded from a human to a piece of manure. No one endures that kind of stuff willingly.

And so I guess that's why I became really distant from my parents. They still make me feel like shit, so lately when they try to speak to me, I can't wait for it to be over. A minute spent speaking to them is a minute wasted, and ten other minutes wasted on calming myself down.

Yes, so I resented their intrusion (we're back to the main point, now).

Talking to them is tense and unpleasant, and more often than not ends in me huddling in a corner with a book or some sort of technology connected to the internet, just to avoid talking to them. Sometimes when I'm stressed with school, it ends with me sulking in my room and sometimes crying a few tears, and then a few more tears because godammit tears are so stupid Helen why are you even crying oh my god you're such a failure.

So I used to feel homesick, but now there's just loneliness, sometimes, and a sort of urgent need to get away from my parents. I don't appreciate being made to feel like shit by my own parents, so homesickness had to go. If I was homesick I might be tempted to seek out the person who frustrates me the most out of everyone on the entire planet. (No it wasn't a conscious decision to get rid of homesickness).

I haven't felt homesick for more than two years. I'm guessing that even adults sometimes feel homesick, like once or twice a year perhaps. But I don't. All I miss are my warm blankets and the days when I can spend all day reading and drinking tea.

I used to feel homesick, when I was younger, but now I guess I'm a bit too dead for such emotions. I think the process of growing up stole my soul or something. Or the process of realizing that my parents where shitheads who didn't even realise they were pushing their daughter away from them, one nasty demeaning remark by one nasty demeaning remark.