I just don’t understand my family. It’s like there’s an alarm set so that every few months they spark off and behave really rudely. Except there’s no ‘off’ switch for it.[br][br]I wrote my mother a really short e-mail – literally nine lines long – about something I’ve already discussed with her at least twice before, on the phone and in person, so it’s nothing new. It’s just that I keep suggesting she tell me a date for when to view our reception venue, so I can show her it needs to be decorated on the morning of the wedding. Now we’re almost three weeks down to the wedding date and it’s still not happened, so I write her asking her to please confirm for me what dates she’d be free for this ASAP so I can book the time with the venue people. Does that make sense? I think it does.[br][br]And so she doesn’t understand what my e-mail means. And fair enough – I’m not bothered by her not understanding. I mean, yes, it does baffle me a bit because it’s nothing new; like I say, I’ve talked about it with her before, she has already said she understands what I mean. Why should this confuse her so much, now?[br][br]Really my issue is how she chooses to tell me she doesn’t understand. Rather than say something friendly like, ‘I don’t know what you mean, can you please call me later and we’ll talk about it then,’ she decides to be ‘creative’. She replies, changing the subject line to read, ‘WARNING! WARNING! WALL OF TEXT AHEAD!’ and then tells me she just can’t get the gist of what I’m trying to say, and would I please not e-mail her anymore about it and just call her.[br][br]I’m sorry…what??? Really, if she has a problem understanding an e-mail, why treat me like it’s my fault? It really ISN’T some complicated thing I wrote about. Why be nasty about it?[br][br]So I replied simply, saying that it wasn’t anything new I was writing her about, it wasn’t a long barrage of words, it wasn’t a long e-mail, and if she couldn’t follow it then there are nicer ways to say so – and most importantly, if she keeps complaining to me about how fed up she is with people making jokes about and critiquing her communication style, perhaps she shouldn’t do that sort of thing to me. I don’t like it, I don’t find it funny, and if someone else did that to her she’d feel hurt too. I’ve told her before there is no need to talk to me this way.[br][br]I’m just so tired of it!! WHY? What possesses people to think these are okay ways to treat each other? I’m not saying I’m perfect – but the difference is that I keep admitting how screwed up I am and seeking help for it, reading books about it, making apologies, and then I’m surrounded by people who feel it their duty to point out all my mistakes but never acknowledge they do it themselves, or sometimes even do worse things themselves. (For instance, I may scream sometimes, but I never shout cursing insults at people, and if I did I certainly wouldn’t expect them to shrug it off as ‘the heat of the moment’ later – I would be accountable for my actions – and I may throw pillows or something, sometimes, in anger, but I would never actually hit someone I love.)[br][br]I just don’t understand my family. Every time I think things are going better, something like this happens and it just reminds me how sick I am of all of it.[br][br]The worst thing, too, is that now I’m scared to check my e-mail again because I know my mom when I point out that she’s hurt me – she flares up and tells me off, and then makes a big pretentious condescending speech about how she’s not proud (yeah right) so she’ll apologise if need be, or how she’s going to give me time to cool off, as if it were just me overreacting with no provocation at all. Like really, let’s count the number of times she’s properly acknowledged mistreating me, in a way that didn’t end up with me having to pity her…really, I can’t think of a single time in all my life.[br][br]It’s so exhausting being trapped in a world with crazy people all around you who refuse to admit they’re crazy. This applies to George too. Okay, I’m using ‘crazy’ a bit loosely here – I don’t mean psychotic 100% of the time; I just mean, really coming out with some truly strange behaviour often enough to raise an eyebrow or two. And whenever I try to approach the subject with George, he gets so offended and defensive.[br][br]And last night, I asked him for maybe the fifth time (I wanted to say the millionth time, but I’m trying to curb my hyperbole haha) to PLEASE read the psychology books I have on all my neurological conditions. He was so resistant about it, sighing, groaning, ‘What, ALL those books?’ (really I only had maybe six in mind – and I didn’t mean this week, I meant over time, and he reads other things often enough so it’s not like I’m asking for a huge thing). Then he said the reason he’s okay with reading all the books he does read is that he’s interested in those. ‘I’m not INTERESTED in AD/HD.’ He added to that, ‘I’m interested in you, but not in AD/HD.’ I just don’t see the difference. Really, call me difficult, but these neurological conditions completely dominate me and dictate my whole way of thinking, perceiving, living and existing. And feeling. They can’t really be separated from me. If you’re not interested in learning anything about the conditions, that’s a pretty hefty rejection of learning anything about me or my daily struggles.[br][br]I texted him this morning saying actually his attitude was exactly what I’ve been saying for years I want to fight against in society, because it breeds prejudice, stereotypes, mistreatment, lack of understanding, and leaves people like me feeling awfully isolated and resentful. Not to mention that I feel like we live two completely separate lives – lives we actually keep secret from one another, in his case because he just never shares anything for whatever reason, and in my case because I’ve tried sharing things and he’s had nothing to say about it, no thoughts or opinions, no visible interest, so I stopped doing it. And when he once felt jealous over how much and how deeply I seemed to talk to a friend on Tribe…well, there’s an easy solution to that jealousy: take an interest in the things that matter most to me in the whole world. [br][br]So I got a reply from him today saying he began reading a book I have on Asperger’s Syndrome and he’d like to talk to me about it, can I please call him at lunch time. So I really hope this is the beginning of a turn…because I’m just so tired of feeling alone.