Saturday, August 8, 2009

I finally cracked under the pressure


Sometimes I hate that I'm supposed to be the "good daughter". I hate having to be the only one my parents are proud of; the one they peg all their hopes and dreams about having an "accomplished" child. Sure, you'd think that being the child being raved about all the time would make me pretty smug, but it's not all it's cracked up to be. It just means that I have all this astounding pressure to
succeed. Do I want to succeed? Of course. But I think I would be just as content to succeed according to my own conditions rather than the parentals.

It's amazing how much one can get away with when they're so focused on the shortcomings of a sibling. As long as I don't appear as "bad," then I fly clean and clear under the radar. You see, being a "success" has plenty of advantages -- the main one being the complete trust of the parents. I get good grades, I don't have a boyfriend, and I stay relatively on track with my life goals, so all that equals a daughter that is offered the forgiveness card anytime I appear slightly irresponsible. I'm spoiled, what can I say? Believe me, I've rebelled for the sole sake of seeing if they'd respond to me like they do to the prodigal daughter, but rebellion only gets recognition if it is known. It does no good being three-hundred miles away and living my life if there's no one here to frown at me with dissatisfaction. I'm not saying that I'm a disastrous failure of a daughter, only that I like pushing the boundaries my parents would rather I stay in. Yes, I'm not a child anymore, but I know
exactly what they disapprove of, and sometimes it's exhilarating sticking a toe or two over that line.

I think this is only preparing me for a life of irresponsibility and pushing the envelope -- all for the sake of the thrill. I am officially in need of psychiatric help. My name is Lissa and I am a mini rebel, a thrill seeker. I can never marry. Who knows if it isn't simply for the satisfaction of shocking my parents, and not for love?
I need to be admitted somewhere. Anyone know the number for the nearest psych ward?

1 comment:

  1. Yes. It's called The County Cork, on Fremont St. I'll join you there for a pint.

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