Revelations before and after visiting family members I haven’t seen since I don’t know when…

Revelations before and after visiting family members I haven’t seen since I don’t know when…

__before:

The world wasn’t on my shoulders when I was in proximity to my dad, my home. No, the world had settled like dust in my lungs, layering thicker over the years. I could not breathe under the weight of it.

The only responsibility I have in this moment is to myself. What they think of me is not who I am.

___after:

There is a subtle, indirect force that has been in my life that I am trying to name. It is insidious in the sense that it is unspoken but deeply felt. It is like a vine that overtakes windows, doors, any means to an exit. Slow. Lasting. Impossible to untangle. None of my family members left me with bruises or caused my blood to spill, but what they did to me and around me hurt nonetheless. It was too much. I still carry the weight of it. Unintentional, small actions, choices and words created the bedrock of my sense of personhood (or lack thereof) and instilled in me the belief that I was responsible for my dad’s wellbeing. These family members were living emotionally stunted lives. The only word I can think to articulate how they moved through mine, my sister’s and my dad’s life is violent. Yet, that doesn’t pin down the precise essence of what I am attempting to name, but it is the best I have so far.