Although to begin with I considered telling my family about how I felt, ultimately I decided against it.
when I was 16 my cousin became very Ill with leukemia. My family has never been the closest, but this really bought everyone together. I have a large family, and no one had ever really been seriously ill before.So when my 19-year-old cousin was diagnosed with cancer it was a very arduous time. The doctors were positive, which I assume they have to be in these kind of situations, but sadly due to a few complications and treatments not being effective, my cousin died two years later. His death brought my family closer but also divided it, it destroyed the flawlessness of my family. my grandmother stopped leaving the house, she stopped moving and she stopped almost all “family traditions” No more christmas dinners, no more baking cakes and no more laughing. My mum took it hard to, (as I assume the rest of my aunts and uncles did) but that’s the problem with my mum, she only ever expects the positive side of things, life is not a film, things don’t always turn out ok. Our conflicting views on reality mean that me, being the way I am just would not fit comfortably in her life.
I decided against telling my family for the reason that I didn’t want to make things worse. I’m sure it would kill my grandmother knowing another of her grandchildren was sick and it would probably send my mother on to a downward spiral that left her reacting the way my grandmother did to my cousin’s death, but worse still, they would not understand, they would think it could all be solved with a cup of tea and a chocolate bar.
And so, 8 years later this is still one of the hardest decisions I have ever made, and one of the most difficult things I have ever had to hide from people who care about me. This way, no one worries about me, no one is scared to talk to me. This is the most superficial, yet perfect relationship I could have with my family. The one true uncorrupted relationship I have.
The Elephant in the Room