My value at home is always equated to how many so called traditional, housewife-like tasks I can accomplish. Any other feats of mine don’t mean much. If I enjoy certain tasks, it’s not valued. I’m gaslit. It’s frustrating hearing this on a daily basis and when facing it to fight it, my efforts are not taken seriously. If I talk happily about something I enjoy, something like baking, it’s shut down as something useless and instead I’m questioned on why I cannot cook more traditional dishes. I am told I need to cook more. But this is said to my face, as though it has been forgotten that I have lived independently with little help from others in doing so. And even when I speak of that time, it’s shut down, stamped on, undervalued. It isn’t quite control, but judgments to restrain me, both consciously and subconsciously. My appearance, my weight, my skin condition is highlighted, with blatant lies thrown on me as accusations. I shouldn’t eat too many oily foods. I have said this out of my own judgment. Yet days later, my own comment is used as an attack against me. Something along the lines of “all these take outs cause your breakouts”. But “all these takeouts” are few, and the same as everyone else, since it’s a family thing. Yet somehow, it’s wrong for me to join in with that. And if I were to exclude myself, I’d be labelled as petty, stupid, dramatic, and so on. This is how it always was. I escaped it for a while. It’s small stuff. But big when it’s coming from within the house. It’s big if it’s consistent, almost daily. Do you not realise what you’re doing? The things I pursue are not taken seriously. No attention is given to them. You all prioritise other things. Things that don’t matter. The culture is dying. So e of those practices will mean nothing in the future. So why are you insisting? What do you achieve? Things can evolve in a different way. There’s nothing inherently wrong with me preferring to bake than cook. I still cook. And beyond the household chores of cooking and cleaning, which by the way in huge part drove me to literal madness approximately one year ago, something which I am still recovering from, I am struggling with other things that are important too. My mental health is in absolute shambles, I have deep fears and hesitances to even pursue some of these things further, and that affects my education as well as my life in general. It affects it all so incredibly and I always have to suffer with the consequences, alone. And I must suffer with it alone, for if you were to discover these failures, that would prove to be an even bigger disappointment. I must at least succeed in one thing. I cannot do the menial tasks, apparently, not to your liking at least, and I cannot even make something of myself, which disappoints you but most importantly myself. All of that, and more, sometimes makes me want to off myself.
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