Odd man out. It doesn’t surprise me. I have always been the black sheep, but the people that made me feel like that the most are the only ones that are left. The ones that made me feel loved and accepted are gone and I can never get them back. They are no longer suffering, but it does not mean that I don’t wish them to be here. They are no longer hurting, but I am. My family is gone. They have chosen those whom they will continue to love and support. They have chosen each other. They have left me out.
It seems that those who you love the most can hurt you the most. It seems that the people who you thought should always be there can leave you at the drop of a hat. Abandonment is not a new feeling for me. It is always here. It’s been here since the day I was born. First by my father, then by my mother. Now, by everyone. I am left alone. I am left with no place to call home.
Home was the phone call early in the morning to Grandma to tell her everything that was going on in my life. Home was Grandpa always standing up for me. My home is gone. My safe haven is gone and I’m left with memories and heartache. I’m left with family members that care from a distance. I’m left with no family to turn to.
I’ve learned to create my own family. I have chosen those will always stand by me no matter what. Those who know my pain and try to understand it. Those who don’t shy away from the me I am. They accept me. They accept my mental illness. They accept my religious beliefs and political affiliations. They do not judge me. Their love is all encompassing and compassionate. They are my true family. They are my new home.
My family is changing. It is becoming less of what I knew and more of what I love. It is complete acceptance for me and my children. It is the unconditional love that my Grandma and Grandpa gave me. So every time I feel left out, I remember I have a hand chosen family now. I miss my Grandma and Grandpa dearly and wish they were here, but I know they would be happy I have found my home. I have found my family.