i had a hard week.
it was set off by a familiar pattern of falling hard for someone, although this time i think it was actually mutual for a minute. he chickened out on me. i took it hard. i'm still taking it hard. for the first time in a while, i was smiling again about someone. and even now, i'm still not convinced that he doesn't want something more from me. but i won't push. i want someone who is as crazy about me as much as i am about him, and who thinks finding someone amazing is worth crossing a canyon full of reasons why we shouldn't try. this ones going to hurt for a while.
after that whole mess happened, work became really hard. some projects are going on, and i was doing a lot of work at home. i'm feeling stressed, and alone in the responsibility.
i also have to move in 3 weeks. which i don't want to do.
and then, out of nowhere, i had a super-intense conversation with a coworker about my mother.
i had already been thinking about her a lot this week. it feels like any time i have a moment where i feel hurt or stressed, it's even harder for me to push away the thoughts of her. i hate that i don't have a mother to call and cry to. i hate that there is no reassuring motherly voice on the end of the phone telling me it's all going to be ok. my aunt and my father try so hard to fill that void, but there are times when it just isn't enough. and the feeling this week was just... overwhelming. soul-crushing. hysteria-inducing.
i was having a full-out moment where i just needed to cry, and reached out the only way i had at my disposal -- a photo of my mother on instagram with a caption that read, "if i just name this feeling, maybe it'll calm down and go away. missing my mom today." i let it out while i was at work, and somehow stemmed the tide of tears that were threatening me every second.
i should've known what would happen afterwards. my entire family freaked out on me. i had phone calls of "are you ok?" "what happened??" and i instantly regretted the entire thing. but the more i thought about it, the angrier i got at my family. why shouldn't i be able to express myself about my mother? why should i have to edit my feelings every single waking minute? sure, Facebook is probably not the best place to express it, but at least it's an outlet. that has to be better than letting it fester and not talking to anyone about it.
in hindsight, i shouldn't have done it -- i knew what my family would think and worry about. but i think deep down i needed to send up the flare. i needed to send out a giant message that said, "sometimes i'm still not ok." because pretending that i am, all the time, is utterly exhausting, and really just a giant lie.
i'm not always ok. i'm not always sure that never speaking to my mother again is the right decision. i'm not sympathetic to my family's worrying about me. sometimes i just want to scream, and rage, and tell the world just how much it sucks to be motherless, and not care about the consequences. is that wrong? is it really the expectation that i need to edit every thought i have in real life?
this blog is so important to me. you have no idea. if i didn't have this space in which to be honest, i don't know how i would function.
