Three Monumental Things

Right, so, Ramadhan is here. Yeayy~
And I'm on a week break (my bus is tomorrow morning tho) for now, at home, then go back for another 2 weeks of work and then another one week break for Eidul Fitr.

First thing I want to address is how frickin smushy my sparkling new drooling baby nephew is. Y'all might wanna see him in my IG post (BABY NEPHEW) and I would like to claim that I am the favorite aunt, FYI. And yes, you shall read these sentences with the sound of pride in my voice, or however it is I may sound like in your doozy little heads.
I am also the best babysitter, self-proclaimed and approved by the biological mother, i.e Sis. In other words, I rule.


There will be a time when I shall receive the ultimate acknowledgement of my babysitting powers.
THE MUG.
I love the little tyke so much already. I mean, duh, he came out of SIS. Even if he were a potato (he is quite the angry potato tho) I'd still love him and cherish him. I have so many nicknames already for him LOL

I'm not normally good with babies. Or children. In general. Just the ones directly related to me. 

Right, that's one thing. 
Second thing, I told my parents about the medication and what they're for. It was all very blase and whatnot, but the backlash always come after. Nurse who did my appointment called that they're pushing up mine from 19th to 5th 'cause of schedules and though I have a Lit test that afternoon, I figured I could take a make-up one after I'm done. I took the call in the living room where mom was and she immediately asked who was I talking to and things spiraled down from there.

Her immediate reaction was : well that's what you get for staying up all night long playing your laptop in highschool.

Tbh, I expected it.



Later that night, as usual, Mom basically just says I have a weak soul whilst Dad just calls me crazy and snapped how I never listen to them and always do my own thing. I didn't stay to hear the rest because when I tried to speak out my piece, the snapping got worse. 

I took my empty glass of water as an excuse to run to the kitchen and straight out bypass them to Sis's room where she heard everything because she was sitting right by the door, watching over her son as he sleeps in the rocker. I wanted to smile and say some stupid joke about SPN references like how an angel watches over him but she grabbed me into her lap as soon as I crouched and pet my hair like there's no tomorrow.

I couldn't remember the last time she held me as I cried. The last time we fought and I cried, she was being driven away at her request to have some distance from me.

She coos and drops kisses on my hair as I bury my face into her legs and try to quietly sob because nephew is sleeping and it's not like I'm not an expert at that. She tells me that it'll take time for Mom and Dad to accept, just as she did. They won't understand, because mental illness isn't something either of them have had experience with, especially with their own children. She didn't understand it either, but she's trying to be accepting.
The best part is when she said, even if Mom and Dad may not be understanding, I will always have her on my side no matter what. 

And I cried even more.

Because I've waited so long for those words.
Sis has always been a part of home to me, and to hear -to know, that she accepts my disabilities makes all the suffering those past years felt worth it. She even talked about The Incident and what it (they) left me with.
I can do this, as long as I have them (them, of course, being Amelia, Irene, and Sis).

When my tears stopped flowing, she told me that I could've gotten away with not telling them because I'd sobbed how long I waited in fear of telling them. We both saw it coming, after all, their reactions. 

The parts I said was, because I was the 'soldier' child, and I felt the need to 'report' to them every little thing.
The parts I didn't say were, because I don't want to have regrets anymore. Even if it's painful and inevitable, at least I could say "I tried". Because trying is all I have left, and trying is all I will ever have.  


After that she gave me a green tea-flavored kitkat. It's the worst and most disgusting thing I have ever put in my mouth, I told her as I finish the chocolate with teary smiles.

That's the second thing.
Third thing is, I had my first breakdown and public anxiety attack last week since I took on medication. I could blame it on unstable hormone, but where's the fun in that?
Especially since they're caused by some of the incompetent little shits I call classmates.

There's this one huge project they're pushing off most of the building work on me and it depends on my drawing skills, which apparently I'm the only capable member of the group who could pull off a decent illustration. I could unleash the burden and make things easier for me if I'd smack 'em all up the head and curse them senseless for being shitty groupmates but that'll hinder the progress of work and possibly make cooperation harder.
And I can't have that.

Work, first of all, comes first.
I can take on their shitty attitudes with bright professionalism until the work is done.
But after that, everything's fair game, bitches.

Y'all gonna take some serious verbal beating 'cause y'all have frickin worst work ethics I have ever been disgraced with in my entire living breathing life and y'all better reflect on that so y'all don't ever trouble other people like this ever again. Causing stress and breakdowns and anxiety attacks...the hell y'all think you are? Frickin 5 year olds can't even get professional in work..


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