I Just Wanted Silence (But Never Got It)
I used to think the worst part of living at home was the noise. My brother never stopped talking—about nothing, about everything, about things I cared about until I didn't anymore. I’d be on a call, or just trying to breathe after school, and there he was, filling every inch of air with his voice.
People say you should stand up for yourself, but I got tired of defending my right to a quiet room. I tried headphones, sarcasm, even just leaving. None of it worked. I started counting the seconds between his sentences, hoping for a gap. Sometimes I’d just stare at the wall and let his words blur into static, because fighting back made me feel worse—like I was the problem for wanting peace.
It’s not just the noise. It’s feeling like your space isn’t yours, like you’re always bracing for the next interruption. I wrote down everything I wanted to say, practiced it in my head, but when I finally tried to talk, he just talked over me. I left the room. Again. I still do. I don’t know if he’ll ever get it. I don’t know if anyone in this house will.
#SiblingStruggles #HomeIsNotQuiet #EmotionalExhaustion #Education
