I'm a Servant, Not a Son

The only reason I'm up this early is because of the fact that my mother came into my room and woke me up saying that they were leaving for my sister's college orientation day. The last words she said was to take care of my sister's dog.

I then went back to sleep only to have a dream that I'm not to happy about.

I heard Shadow, the dog, come up the stairs. I assumed that they let her out for some little exercise, so I got up and was going to put her back in her pen. When I got to the main area of my room, I noticed that it was clean. Everything that could be thrown out was. The only things left were my wood piece from 3-D design and my drawing board, which was missing a piece of left over canvas paper. A sense of overwhelming rage came over me as I knew the truth for the first time.

I then woke up a second time to find my room just as I have left it.

Shadow and I have a lot in common. We are both overweight, we both have something wrong with our hearts (Shadow has heart worms, whatever those are.), we both are cut off from the rest of the world thanks to isolation, we are both depressed in one form or another, and we both are not considered a member of the family except by one naive person who just happens to be my sister.

The only big difference is that Shadow can find a new family, if given the chance, while I can't.

In retrospect, I never really was a member of this family. I was more like a servant that got occasional awards for doing things. Kind of like the kid that always had to be bribed with a Happy Meal just so they can do their homework when they got home from school. (Yes, that was me as well.) Recently, however, it's been more along the lines of "Jon, do this" and "Jon, do that" and "Jon, why don't you do this for me because I'm too lazy to do it myself."

I had to be a pack mule and load up the Highlander with my sister's new computer confirming that I was denied one, and subsequently taking over "the family computer." I had to cook at one point after getting back from my failure in Seattle, which fell out of habit due to a lack of enjoyment. I became the family IT whenever something happened to this computer or my sister's computer just because I happen to be on it a lot, therefore I should know how to fix it by their logic.

Not once can I remember right now a time where they asked me what I wanted to do or how my day was, especially if I had a good day. I cannot remember a time where I had a conversation with them at the same length and attention as my sister. On top of that, the only thing I can think of right now that comes close to me being a part of this family is the fact that they came to everything a parent is obligated to go to. Graduation, First Communion, Open House at Watkins. All the bringing me free food and giving me cash seems more like payment for being here and doing little things than actual little bits of when they were actually thinking about me, unless it came from my sister or my aunt.

Wow, I really have gone insane. I'm comparing my life to that of the dog. Like there is a difference.