Family drama

Tekst utworu

FAMILY DRAMA [Cheerful piano] Family drama, family trauma, Nobody takes accountability—period, no comma. We break the cycle every day, By changing the subject—or looking away. We’re falsely acting pleasant to maintain the status quo, But mention something happened and it’s all— “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” “You have a problem.” “Clearly you’re the issue.” “I hope you get the help you need.” Here—have another tissue. Because therapy is wonderful, We strongly recommend it. For you. Not us. We’d rather die than attend it. Don’t bring up my mood swings, Or possible mental illness, That’s rude, invasive, judgmental— Could we please return to stillness? Anyway, your grandmother’s boyfriend Was an abusive fucking prick— But don’t tell Grandma I said that. Jesus Christ, are you sick? Yes, I recognize the pattern, And yes, I did repeat it, But calling that “generational trauma” Feels unnecessarily conceited. Let’s call it family drama, That sounds considerably lighter. “Trauma” needs accountability. “Drama” just needs a writer. Your brother has his issues, But really, don’t we all? And if everybody has a problem, Then nobody’s at fault! [Music stops] That’s not how that works. [Music resumes, brighter] DON’T WE ALL?! Family drama! Family trauma! Period, period—still no comma! We’ve tried nothing whatsoever, And we’re shocked it’s not getting better! Anxiety? Taboo! Addiction? Not our jurisdiction! Depression? Change the direction! Accountability? [Long uncomfortable silence] “Why does everything need a label? Why can’t we just be ourselves?” Because apparently being ourselves is how we fucking got here. If you bring it up, We’ll have a conniption, Then rewrite the story— It’s a family tradition. We’ll diagnose your tone, Your motives and your diction, Anything to avoid A little self-reflection. “I’m worried about your anger.” Okay. Can we discuss yours? NO. We’re talking about YOU. I’m closing that door. Oh, like when you hid in your room From all the screaming and rage? DON’T PUT OUR PRIVATE BUSINESS ON THE FUCKING STAGE! ...You mean the thing that explains why we behave this way? That’s not productive. Of course. Family drama! Family trauma! Welcome to the House of Emotional Karma! Where boundaries are disrespect, Silence means respect, And “keeping the peace” means Protecting whoever wrecked it. We don’t sweep things under rugs— That accusation is unfair. We carefully catalogue them, Then pretend the rug’s not there. And if someday you lift it up And say, “Hey, what the fuck?” We’ll gasp— “How dare you bring up the past?” The past was Tuesday. “Still.” So paint me as the problem, If that helps you sleep at night. If admitting there’s a pattern Means admitting I was right. Because nothing says “healthy family” Quite like everyone agreeing: “We’ve got absolutely no dysfunction— NOW STOP FUCKING TALKING ABOUT IT.” [Cheery piano outro] Family drama, family trauma, Nobody takes accountability—period, no comma. Pass it down, then act surprised, When the next generation gets therapized. Break the cycle? Absolutely. Just… quietly. And preferably— without involving me.