Irony of Life: Family?

One interesting statement: Family is supposed to be the closest to oneself even when one feels like stabbing them all the time.

It is supposed to. But is this statement valid for everyone? Maybe. Maybe not.

An early birthday gift is the knowledge that no one in my so-called family bothers to keep contact with me to the extent that they don't even have my contact number here in the UK because my only brother reformatted his mobile phone. Good for him.

Should I bother to give them my number again? I wanted to know if I mean anything to them, so I stopped calling home since end of July. Guess what? After three months, they are finally trying to find out what the heck is my mobile number. Apparently, I exist perhaps only once in a blue moon. No wonder from the age of 23, I was told crudely that they assumed I got married in a faraway land just because I chose to stay in a place I was most comfortable and loved. No wonder I was described as a stranger whom my mother no longer knows as daughter. I can give my mobile number a thousand times, but if I am the only one trying to work things out, there's no point. Does anybody even care I am alive or dead?

I am dealing with many things at the moment. Unnecessary accusation that I abandon the family, etc. just because I didn't call home is going to bring me down to the pit.

You can choose to judge me as an ungrateful brat. Honestly, I am too exhausted to want to talk about it anymore. God knows my heart best.