sorethroat

as if it even CAN be ruined. it's ruined as it is - i can't stand playing happy family, because it's not even a good imitation of a happy family. it's a bargain bin version, wrought with flaws.

it started when my dad gathered us in the living room (mom, me, first brother, second brother, second brother's girlfriend, grandpa) for pictures before we exchanged gifts. i say "exchanged" rather loosely because one person is picked (being the youngest, i was the exploited slave labour) to hand out the presents. this usually ends in dad tossing presents in everyone's laps to speed up the entire process. it's a race, you see.

he took some happy dappy pictures of us in front of the tree, and then handed off the camera to my bro's girlfriend to take the Family Portraits [TM].

i stood next to my mother, a residue of my early childhood attachment issues (perhaps a result of our being the two lone females against the gang of four males). my dad moved behind us, saying "let me get behind you because you're short.

short and fat".

now, my crying is not typically a kick-to-the-stomach reaction. after years of training (father hitting me when i cried, old sign-of-weakness mentality, 'i'll give you something to cry about') i mastered the art of saving all the kicks in the stomach for later. on my own, in my room or the bathroom with an exactoknife, usually. my friend V. mastered it so brilliantly (her father also employed the line mentioned above - what, is there an abusive father's handbook that they all have to read???) that she hasn't cried for about 10 years.

the past few years, those mechanisms have come apart, mostly for spite. like an "i'm going to fucking SHOW you what you've done!" to the offender. but i was always labelled "too sensitive" as a child, and again this label reared its ugly head today.

i held my breath so as not to burst out crying, and said "why don't you just call me evelyn?" referring to my grandpa's habit of calling me "evelyn" which was his 400 lb sister's name.

then he said something else like "i'm just kidding." or something, and i said "well, you said i was short and i AM short, so i MUST be FAT!" and click click click went the camera.

these pictures are going to be *great*.

then i went to the bathroom to blow my nose and gather my shattered non-existent composure. my brother jake played mediator and came in to tell me that he didn't mean it, and coming from this family i should expect people to say stupid stuff that they don't think about. i blew my nose and said "not about THAT."

he said i can't be so sensitive about it.

i thought, maybe i am not TOO sensitive about ANYTHING. maybe it's just that everyone else is so fucking INSENSITIVE.

i came out and we played happy families.

just a little while ago they were all downstairs talking about it. due to the construction of this house, i can hear every breath someone takes down there. so my dad said he didn't mean anything by it, and then my mom and my brothers started talking about exercise.

like i'm lazy or something.

as if i'm a slob and that's why i'm "fat".

it's funny, my friends and my girlfriend work so hard in telling me that i'm not fat, and i sometimes actually believe them. then i come to my family, the ones who are supposed to love you and THEY are the ones who tell me i'm not good enough.

one of my worst fears was The Blood Test. i would start crying on the spot if a doctor ever mentioned it, and i went 21 years without having one, or even knowing my blood type.

i got my blood taken this year when i went to my doctor to see if i had a thyroid problem.

because i couldn't figure out why i was fat.

she said i didn't look like i had a thyroid problem, and guess what? i don't. my blood was excellent, the liquid stamp of good health. excellent cholestrol levels, perfect blood sugar. the things "FAT" people usually have problems with.

i guess i look like a slob, here on my christmas holiday. watching tv. writing e-mails to my friends on the computer. it's cold and snowy outside, and where would i go? i'm nowhere. they don't see me walking to my classes, back to my apartment, to my girlfriend's, to the store, trying to avoid the "sloth's" temptation of public transport.

well. this slob is going to take the wild dog for a long walk in the snow. i suppose i could puke up christmas dinner for them, too, but purging is actually not an effective means of weight reduction.

i try not to hate my family. i just wish i wasn't the only one who was "too sensitive."

last time***next time