So there have been a few changes in my life. Specifically I moved from Illinois back to NC. I assure you this was not an easy choice to make,  rimme can attest to that. I got admission into a program to become a teacher in NC without having to go back to school. Specifically to teach science, not English. Frankly, being sick of hating my jobs and hating the people I'm around, plus not knowing stability, made taking the chance an easy decision. I missed NC, but boy oh boy did I not miss my parents. I had to think a long time about it. Rimme told me I needed to take it, so I did.

Well after being informed I could attend a job fair for people in this teaching program, I packed up everything and headed out with Seneca. And not Rimme. He's waiting behind until I figure out my next move. This is not what I wanted to be doing, in fact I still have something else I'm planning to do (this is the announcement I alluded to in a past journal. Sadly it's on hold for the time being). For now I try to get certified and experience. After that I'll figure it out.

The job fair was a disaster. Originally it was for those without experience but they chose to open it to EVERYONE with teacher certification. Guess who didn't stand out in that equation? Yeah I didn't get anything. In fact the first person I handed my resume to tossed it in the trash in front of me, then used the lame excuse of "That's where the resumes for people in the Intern program go". They go in the trash, good to know.

Beyond that I've been stuck back in my room at home with my gecko and most of my stuff still packed. And my parents, again my parents. I don't know how quite to express it, but they get to me. I always feel self conscious. And I think though I finally know why.

I gave up video games for Lent, an utterly miserable experience that meant I didn't have a crutch to use when feeling depressed. But it did at least force me to think about why I need games so much. Before I get into that though I want to tell another story.

As anyone who read my last story knows  born2beagator and I are taking commissions, having written four stories in a month. Everyone one has been popular thus far if a bit on the long side. Lots of praise, lots of notes talking about how much people like them, and it made me happy to see people like them. And then got another note yesterday, thanking him and "the other writer" for writing it. The story was my idea, so that really stung.

It made me think though. In my house I'm the other child. My parents made it clear to me they love my brother more than me. Between my mom telling me that I need "special help" he didn't and threatening to wash her hands of me, to my dad getting him an internship even after he refused to fill out the paper work for it.

Now that Easter has rolled around we're at my grandmother's house (RIP grandpa). Here I'm the other grandchild. When I was fourteen I walked in on my grandparents talking about how much of a dismal and pathetic failure I was compared to my cousin. And when my grandfather died he only asked my cousin to speak at his funeral, not me or my brother.

No matter what I do, it won't be enough here. I could be the first writer on Mars and I'd still not measure up to my family. From as long as I can remember my failure wasn't something tangible, but something abstract. I fail because I am a failure. Even if I succeed they've so marked me as "failure" that there is nothing I can do about it.

Sitting through dinner tonight I felt like I was sitting outside, watching another family eat. I hate spending time with my family, for me it's my own personal hell. I'm stuck with people for whom I will never measure up.

Do you know why I play so many video games? Or constantly work on ambitious projects? Or never quit educating myself on new subjects? Because after being raised in this environment I have to win at something. For my own mental health I have to know I am good at something. Even if it's just games or tf stories, I want to be recognized for my own accomplishments.

"If you're so upset about being ignored, why not bring it up?" Yeah I've been asked that before. The answer is because I don't want pity. I want people to acknowledge my accomplishments. I want people to want to be around me, not because they feel they have to be. But even though I do have friends, I still feel...worthless I suppose. I don't know if it'll ever be enough.

I'm not writing this because I have a solution, because I don't. I just have some more understanding. As truly miserable Lent was at least I got something out of it, so that counts for something. For now I'll keep working on finding work. As soon as I can I need to determine what to do with my family.

I'm supposed to forgive those who sin against me. But I don't know if I can forgive my parents. And I don't know how to get over my anger towards the rest of my family. I don't know what to do and I wish I did.

In positive news a drawing  matthiasrat posted gave me an idea for a commission and you know I'm going to go for it when I can. For now though I'll have to endure. For now I am the Other Writer. Maybe one day I'll be the writer people search out. We'll see.