7/8/19 (Shanghai)

I’ve been doing better since my last journal, but today and now I’m sad in a way that only homesickness can bring on, and feeling incredibly alone. Grandma left today. It will probably be years before I see her again.

I expected seeing her to be an anxiety inducing and stressful experience, but instead, she’s been nothing but nice to be this time. She’s not the abusive wife or unholy matron anymore. She’s just old, and she holds some resentment and sadness in her heart. And she just seems worn and sad, not cruel.

(To reiterate an old story that I got through hearsay, she was a demon of a wife who drove my grandfather to suicide when my mom was 8. I used to see her as a cruel person who exemplifies the unhealthy and abusive relationships in my family. I have vivid memories of her making me cry a lot when I was younger. But I saw none of those traits in the present day. Maybe she mellowed out with age or after meeting my angel of a step-grandfather.)

Yesterday night when I couldn’t sleep again she stayed up with me, brought me something to eat. It’s weird because such a simple gesture made me feel so much. I felt cared for. I rarely feel cared for. Not necessarily because no one cares about me, but because I deny the feeling because I have no idea how to react to it. I rarely let myself believe that I’m cared for, and when I do, I become a mess. Case in point, I’m crying silently at the moment and I certainly did not ask for it. It’s deeply touching to feel cared for. It’s not a feeling I am used to.

It was actually a problem if I recall when it came to boyfriend and I. He seemed to care so much when I still had problems warming up to him and trusting him. I had no idea how to reciprocate, in fact didn’t feel this care at all, so I lied and stressed myself out. Then I broke up with him when it became too much.

There’s someone in my life who always tells me that she cares about me. In fact, she jokingly-somewhat praises me to the point of elevating me to godhood. However, she doesn’t idolize me, which is good because she lets me have the flaws of a human being, and helps me deal with them when I let her. I have always dismissed her feelings. What a contradiction, to crave love and friendship so much and then reject what’s right in your face.

It’s not that I lack love and friendship, though I can’t say I have as much as what someone my age normally has (in terms of family), but that I’m incredibly reluctant to let myself believe in it. It’s the reason I suffer silently with the ability to text or phone people who are so near for fear that they’ll eventually become annoyed with me. It’s the reason I over the course of my life have attempted to become very independent, in hope that I will never rely on anyone else. It’s the reason almost no one has ever seen my deepest self, and I have never been able to form a relationship deeper than a certain point with someone.

But I crave these things; caring, camraderie, understanding. I understand that they require patience, but that I’m willing to give.

On a tangentially related topic, my parents are a strange case. They have provided me with everything I will ever need in life, food, a nice house, money, even willing to pay off a massively expensive college education. All of this physically is everything they are expected to do and more. Even non-abusive parents can’t provide all of these things. And that’s the point that’s given me so much trouble. Shouldn’t I count myself lucky instead of hating my upbringing? It’s hard to find a disconnect where I can feel lucky and happy for what’s been done for me on one hand and also understand that my parents were pretty emotionally absent and damaging on the other hand. They don’t truly love or care for me, and that confused me on what love and care were for a long time. My dad quickly dismisses my wishes, my mom can only listen to me when I talk about something relevant to her. The aspect of my life they’re most keen on is grades and academic performance and extracurriculars and everything involving college, not who I am as a person, my feelings, my growth throughout the years, which are so incredibly substantial yet unheard and underrepresented.

Being with them makes me fundamentally uncomfortable. Because of them I distrust and would rather be away from most other people, something I’ve carried with me since childhood. Because of my dad I’ve always felt like I had no voice or power. Because of them I’ve felt in danger in my own house. Because of their constant criticism and in my dad’s case, lampooning, I’ve always had issues with self esteem, body image, my abilities, etc.

That’s why being where I am now feels so strange. Don’t you see? I’m everything they’ve led me NOT to be, and they’re happy for me. Don’t you see the contradiction there? I’m learning to trust people, I have a voice now, I’m going to learn self defense, I’m learning to be independent from other’s opinions. Despite issues with my confidence and abilities I have achieved top notch grades and scores and, if others are to be believed, I’m pretty good at drawing. I’m everything they raised me not to be. And they’re HAPPY.

What the hell, parents?

Imagine an alternate universe where I’d succumbed to everything they put me through.  I’d be a sad, worthless sop, and I’d constantly wonder and think and try to find blame for my situation. In a way, it would be correct to place blame on my parents. Of course I’d like to say that I also should have picked myself up and therefore some of the blame is on me. But I know how hard it is to “pick yourself up” when you’ve only ever been told you are and felt like you are worthless and voiceless. Plus having no friends to give you perspective or tell you otherwise.

I’m going home tomorrow. After so much mental begging for this day to come sooner, I feel a little sad now that I’m leaving. I’m still just as homesick as before, but now I’m thinking about the things I’m leaving behind by going back to America. My relatives, who’ve proven to be actually alright and receptive this time. My culture and heritage. My chinese learning - I’ve noticed that my Chinese and Shanghainese have gotten so much better since I’ve been here, something that probably happens anytime you’re forced to use a foreign langauge. I mean, if I couldn’t speak and read Chinese here I’d be constantly lost. I’ll be leaving behind my maternal grandma and the graves of my aunt and grandad, which I never properly paid respects to, my new baby cousin which by the time I see her again will have grown up.

The thing about being a second generation immigrant (i’m not sure if that’s the right term, my parents are immigrants and I was born in America) is that you leave behind most of your family in your home country. In my case, I have no family in America besides my paternal grandparents and my second cousins, who live in Illinois and don’t really count. No trips to grandma’s house, no playing with your cousins. No security in a big network of relatives or a lively household. I’m not sure how to help people who haven’t experienced this understand, but it feels so lonely. It feels like just me and my three person family against the big wide world, no one else around to help us along.

Coming “home” to your home country (in my case China) always feels so strange. All this family who suddenly love and cherish and feel attached to you are people you’ve literally never seen in your life or only once every few years. It feels disconnected because I only ever hear of them through social media, and that’s only bits and distant pieces. For example, my new cousin that I mentioned. I remember her mom being three months pregnant like it was yesterday. Then I remember her being five months old. This time when I came back, she was suddenly four and a half. She grew so fast into a little girl that walks and talks and knows me as her big sister from America. Had I been in China, I would have followed her growth, I’d have seen her get bigger and bigger, I’d have watched her grow cuter and prettier and smarter every day. But I wasn’t, so it just feels strange that she suddenly jumped age!

More about coming back to family in China, I realized how convenient it is to have so much family, and how nice it feels. It’s like a ready to go pack of friends that you don’t actually have to put in the effort of making, haha! They’re willing to help you with a bunch of stuff, that back in America we have to do everything alone or pay someonne else. And they’re usually very caring and encouraging.

It’s very nice to stream of consciousness write like this, but usually it’s harder to connect thoughts to words. I’ll end this journal here...