When the holidays were coming close, I knew I wouldn’t be enjoying it.
I still have this unspoken rift with my family due to my change in beliefs. Since 2012, I’ve always thought that I was the one who became distant. I may be right. It may be right of an assumption. But I can’t help but also feel they’ve become distant to me as well. It’s worse now, I think. Only because I told my mother I’m having an existential crisis, and that I am depressed. But none of them understands.
I’m a stranger they provide food, shelter, and clothes. I’m a stranger sharing the same roof with them. I’m a stranger eating at the same dining table as them. I’m a stranger. And I reckon I’ll become an even bigger stranger in the coming year because of changes in the family.
Oh boy, I can’t wait.