He wasn't fond of his family.
He hated how one moment was peaceful, then someone was asked to do something, and how chaos would immediately ensue. He hated how his siblings would poke and prod at him, knowing fully how quickly he could get upset by this. They just wanted a reaction out of him.
Fundy hated how easily his mood could change. He hated how intrusive his thoughts were, and how he felt like he had to act on them to rid of them.
There were times where he had to raise his voice to get his way, having people back away from him and give him space. He'd have to hit the table, the wall, something, to get someone to leave him alone.
He hated how as a result of being ignored and overlooked, he turned to hurting himself. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't reach out for help. No one would listen. So he'd hurt himself, for entertainment, release, anything. He wanted to be in control of something, so why not this? If he couldn't control his anger, frustration, he would take it out on himself where he can control it.
Fundy really wasn't fond of his family, and he hated himself for not being able to cope properly.
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
Fundys struggles
लघु कहानीA bunch of drabbles of me self-projecting onto c!Fundy / just writing about myself. Having a bunch of undiagnosed illnesses sucks.
