Tag Archives: Emotions

Emotional Overflow Error

26 May

I didn’t expect graduating from University would rouse all these feelings and yet here I am crying at 1 am. The last weeks have been stressful and that’s okay, it’s the final stage of writing my thesis and that’s bound to be a difficult time without a lot of sleep. I’ve had too many feelings of inadequacy that could fill an entire post on it’s own. What hits me right now though is that I miss my Mom exponentially more than before.

I miss going downstairs and telling her how I feel and that it seems like I can’t do right with this thesis. I miss going downstairs for a hug that would be full of love and making me fell infinity times better. I miss my Mom. Period.

I thought it would be better by now but on the contrary, my feelings are working overtime even though I could really do without them. The thing is, she should be here. She should be able to see me graduate, leave school for the first time in my life. And she is not.

Today I got a call from my uncle because I haven’t called in a while (so have they but whatever) and that’s because I was busy falling apart and piecing myself back together while I struggle through writing a thesis on a daily basis. There has not been a lot of time for anything lately (like blogging or theatre). He asked me if I had put beer in the fridge and I assume this was because tonight was some big soccer match. I don’t care about bloody soccer though and I don’t like beer. However, here I am hours later obsessing over the fact that nobody knows me anymore because the person that knew me best is dead. Sure, Grandma knows me very well too, but it’s different. And I don’t want to take this out on her because it hurts her too. I cannot hurt her. Uncle asked how I was doing. As if I’d spill all my feelings over the phone! We haven’t spoken in weeks and you expect me to tell you all about my emotions and insecurities that are on high alert right now. I’m graduating next week so take a wild guess as to how I am!

It’s not his fault but I am not okay right now. I honestly didn’t expect it to be this hard. Maybe that’s why I didn’t put too much effort in my thesis in the beginning, I was stalling, trying to avoid this final step of migrating into a new stage of my life. A stage my Mom should be part of. She should be here, cheering me on and being happy when I hand in my finished work next week. No amount of wishing can bring her back and all of this is highly irrational but that doesn’t make things less painful right now. I just want to turn off all these feelings but naturally I cannot.

Instead I am sitting here, crying, rambling incoherently while Jeff Buckley’s Hallelujah is trying to soothe my inner turmoil. I cannot wait for it to be Friday. 5 days and everything can calm down again. I can socialise again because that’s what’s additionally fuelling these feelings. Being lonely because I haven’t seen a lot of people lately. I didn’t have the time but it’s very isolating and counterproductive. I have no problem with being alone, I’ve always cherished it but being lonely is something else. Too many emotions at the same time.

All I need is 5 more days without all these emotions and feelings. I am a very rational being who’s not used to all this irrational crap. My brain and my heart are in different universes at the moment making me the emotional black hole of feelings. Just ugh!

Where Can I Reset My Dream RAM?

15 Mar

I’m used to dreaming a lot of rubbish and watching Doctor Who is not always helping my dreams being more realistic these days. For instance, I recently dreamed I was the Tenth Doctor and dressed as a waiter on some weird space-ship. I don’t remember what else was happening because after I got back to sleep my memory started to fade away and the next time I woke up again I had the Alanis Morissette song I listened to the night before stuck in my head.

It’s also not new to have one dream element recurring over and over again; it usually happens before exam periods where I cannot move fast enough while I’m chased by murderers. Lately though, there is one recurring element I could do much without and I don’t exactly know why it’s there or when it will leave again. I’m dreaming of my dead Mom only that she is not dead anymore. SAY WHUT??

Yep, she is alive but not in the good before-cancer way, more like cancer-free but still as helpless as with cancer. In those dreams I know she is dead and then she comes back and I again have to take care of her. It’s not scary in a “OMG my dead mother is still alive” kind of way but more of an annoying “OMG again with the taking care thing?”. I don’t wake up screaming because for a moment I thought her death was all a dream, no. My subconscious is always aware of her death. I’m actually glad to wake up because I know it was only a dream, that I won’t have to relive my worst days.

I don’t know a lot about dreams, I never had psychology classes or stuff like that. Nevertheless I believe to have a good grip on myself except for that one time but this, I don’t get just yet. Maybe it will leave me again soon but as I don’t understand where it came from, I will not know how to get rid of it. Stress dreams disappear once the source of the stress is gone but with this? I can only wonder if it has to do with my anger loosening even though that hardly makes sense to me.

As I write this I see multi-coloured particle clouds rising to the sky as a visualisation of feelings moving on. I’m sorry if this doesn’t make any sense at all. I probably watched way too much Doctor Who in addition to not even being able to adequately describe what I see. Maybe my memory is regenerating?! Ok, I’m just gonna stop here hoping that putting thoughts to paper will get rid of them. It usually does. If not, I’ll be stuck with these weird dreams for a while longer as much as I could do without them.

Claws of my Heart

8 Mar

My heart – or better a part of my heart –  has been so tight in recent months, caught in anger that it wasn’t able to process any other feelings. Anger towards a disease science has yet to find a cure for; anger at the person having said illness. It’s been almost six months since Mom’s passing away and only now am I finally feeling the grip of that anger lessen, making it not easier but harder to remember her.

In the last year, I started hating her, yes, actually hating my own mother; hating her for getting sick and being an impossible patient; for making my life miserable and hard; but mostly for reversing our roles. It was all so messed up, I was trying to hold myself together as best as I could while trying to take her to all those doctor’s appointments, making sure she took her meds, ate, didn’t burn down the house, had enough money in her bank account. Those were not my responsibilities, they were hers, she was the mother but I was taking care of her. And I hated it. As her cancer progressed, so did my hatred for her until she died and I was relieved of the never-ending worries of how and when. I was actually glad.

It meant that I could finally breathe again, lick my wounds and start to heal. The months before, I was barely holding on, I was overwhelmed with everything, mostly because I didn’t see it ever changing. A sea of misery and I was in the middle of it, holding on to the smallest piece of wood possible while wave after wave was trying to swallow me whole. I am not sorry for hating her as I know I didn’t hate the actual person but the character her cancer turned her into but it has taken me all these months to actually – finally – miss her because I was still so caught up in my anger.

Now the memories of “patient mom” are fading away and instead the “just mom” sentiments are resurfacing. This sweet, lovely woman that was always trying to give me everything I could possibly want and I am finally missing her. Only, it hurts! FEELINGS ARE THE WORST!

This realisation dawned upon on me earlier today as I was at the university when the thought of a Mom-hug popped into my head out of the blue. I didn’t want a hug but just remembering that I will never be hugged like that again made my eyes fill with tears. Mom-hugs are these special kind of hugs that are filled with unconditional love and an edge of everything-will-turn-out-right-in-the-end that only a parent, but especially a mother, can give. Stupid feelings, I couldn’t start ugly sobbing right then and there in an office with 4 guys. I tried to push those emotions back down but was not successful at it. So I left earlier than I had planned for today because I needed to process these feelings. Holding stuff back only comes back to bite one in the ass and I was not gonna do that. This is me processing because I have feelings and I don’t know where to put them – so I write them down. My answer to everything. Keep on writing.

There are Days…

6 Mar

There are days I feel happy; like I’m bursting with energy; as if I could take on the world and win.

There are days I’m insufferable; I know it but I cannot change it no matter how much I annoy even myself with it.

There are days everything feels wrong from the moment my feet touch the ground for the first time in the morning without having done anything yet.

There are days I jump out of bed with the prospect of watching a sunrise; I wake up believing in all the possibilities life gives me and that everything is splendid.

There are days I feel like a waste of molecules; of space; of clean air I take away from more deserving people than me.

There are days my heart sings and the rest of my body hums along because everywhere I look I see beauty; it is wonderful and I’m unable to take my eyes away from it.

There are days I’m a genius and know it – maybe not an actual genius but close enough to make me feel like I have the answers to everything.

There are days I fight the words in my head to make sense; to be quiet; to leave me alone as I lie in bed avoiding the real world outside of my bedroom.

There are days I cannot wait to mould sentences; string words together to share them with the whole wide world because I have feelings to attend to.

There are days I feel the need to drown my emotions in fiction because only there I can be sure of a happy-end instead of these dreadful actual feelings I’m harbouring.

There are days I’m lazy as hell and cannot get a thing done if my sanity depended on it.

There are days I could spend hours looking at the wallpaper because I’m not really seeing it – too lost in my own head.

There are days I cannot sit still because my mind is racing and my body needs to catch up.

There are days I want to cry for hours but I’m not letting myself because it feels weak and stupid until the time I cannot hold the tears in any longer.

There are days remembering the amazing people in my life is enough to make my heart burst with joy.

…and then there are days that are filled with all of the above.

Angry Blogging

6 Feb

This is an anger fuelled post so maybe I’ll be crossing a line somewhere or not. Also, if profanities are not your thing, just walk away right now. Ugh, I just need to get this out of my system so that my inner thunderstorm can calm the hell down again.

What spawned this emotional outburst you might ask? Well, this photo appeared on my Tumblr dashboard:

 

I don’t like Valentine’s Day and it is only a thing in Germany like Halloween is slowly becoming a thing over here. It’s not rooted in our history, just something we adopted and that’s okay. Maybe I’m a bit bitter because I never had a Valentine but the person who made this picture just thinks he/she is so clever. But they are not!

Just think about all those poor people out there that don’t have a mother or a father anymore so stop whining about not having a Valentine. 

Seriously? Who is to say that not having a mom or dad on those days in the year dedicated to them is more heartbreaking than a person not having someone special in their lives – someone that loves and cares about them and not in a parental way?

I’m probably overreacting, I’m completely aware of this but still. Still!! I can’t get over the stupidity of this picture. And this year I have neither, just FYI. I don’t have a Valentine, obviously. I haven’t seen or spoken to my father in years and for all I know he could be dead and then my Mom is actually dead. Oh, and Mom’s birthday would have been the day before Valentine’s Day.

So does this allow me to not shut the fuck up like the person in the picture insinuates? Because I feel like I have all the rights in the world to bitch about this. For as long as I care to! And even if my parents were still around, it doesn’t mean that I cannot be upset about the fact that I have no one special in my life. That I will die as an old maid for crying out loud!

Of course, there is always someone who is doing worse than you are but that doesn’t mean that in your situation, what you consider a loss is not worth the emotion. People go crazy over things and emotions that don’t matter, that are only problems because they are making them into ones but I don’t think this is. Sure, everyone brings their own background to this question but yes, I think it’s ok to be upset about not having a Valentine on Valentine’s Day. It’s just fucking normal to want to be loved and give love.

Now my anger is finally subsiding – just slowly but I take what I can get. Sorry for the angry ramble, this however is the place I use to vent.

Sickness and Secrets

29 Jan

I’ve got the flu. I saw it going around Twitter some days ago and I can’t help but wonder if it’s possible to get infected over the internet while being on separate continents. It started out with some minor discomfort in my throat on Saturday and has turned into full blown sickness mode by Monday. YAY! I haven’t been that sick in ages but whatever. I feel like a tank has driven over me in my sleep.

Granny called me today and she was not happy with me not telling her that my flu got worse and bla, bla, blaaa. She thinks I should have told her and asked for help but I didn’t want to worry her and thought I would get by on my own. She is so very protective of me, probably because I’m like a daughter to her not only a grandchild and I’m the only one she can actually fuss about. But I’m 25, dammit, and I can handle most things on my own including sickness. She said I was so buttoned up and then sounded rather angry before she hung up the telephone. I’m not even sure what that means, only that it made me angry and I sill am even though it’s been hours since that call.

Really, grandma??

Yes, I’ve got it bad because I resolved to taking industrial strength medicine to dull my headache and other symptoms. I prefer not to take medicine for as long as I can avoid it, but I couldn’t anymore and so I bit the bullet and put my big-girl pants on. I may have cursed and whined to bestfriendboy about feeling like hell but that’ just how I roll. Nothing to worry about.

My family is very secretive, we are never told everything, there is always something someone knows but someone else doesn’t. It’s stupid. Like my uncle having diabetes. On Sunday though, my aunt let that secret accidentally slip out so now Granny knows. Not sure what happens next.

I on the other hand have not been told so many things, like reasons for hospital visits of family members even after I was old enough to take them and many other things. Over time I grew rather self-sufficient, if I was told something? – Good. If I was kept out of the loop? – Fine by me as well. It’s like we don’t trust each other completely. As I was a teenager, Granny used to interrogate me about Mom which I hated. Standing between two parties, especially when your neither good at lying nor want to do it in the first place is quite annoying. I always had to watch my words even around family which is wrong if it’s such a small family like mine.

Even if you tell them the truth, they don’t believe you. I’ve been asked so many times if I’m ok and how I’m doing and whatnot after Mom’s death it’s so annoying. Sure it was tragic, but also inevitable. If you saw the things I saw in the last year, you would be ok with your mother being relieved of her pain and suffering as well. Naturally there are days I miss her more, I think about her on a daily basis and in my dreams she is still alive which I’m not sure how that makes me feel. All in all though, I have accepted it so why does the rest of my family feels the need to keep dancing around me, trying to find things that are wrong with me when there really aren’t any?

Also, why am I supposed to share everything about myself when all my life I wasn’t granted the same rights – still am not?! Maybe I am a little buttoned up, but there is not much happening in my life lately. I get up, go to uni, go home, watch TV shows, eat, read, sleep, repeat. No big secrets there. The only thing I have really kept to myself so far is that I’m gay. I just don’t know how to bring it up.

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Ugh, this little phone conversation just made me so angry. Of course I love my family, only sometimes they are difficult to get along with. Just because I didn’t come running for help, making her get me medicine and food makes me a horrible grandkid? It’s not like I accidentally amputated my arm with a chainsaw and then didn’t tell anyone about while not going to the ER but trying to stitch things up myself. IT’S THE FLUUUUU! People get it all the time and they are fine. Sure, maybe they are miserable for a couple of days but that is just how sickness goes.

And if I am indeed buttoned up, then it’s not entirely my fault.

I am The Woman

8 Jan

Do you ever have a line from a poem or song or even movie stuck in your head, cannot get it out? Well for me, it is this poem:

I am the woman

Ulla Hahn, 1993

Please excuse the crappy translation, I used Google Translate and my own judgement. It’s better in German, of course, but I wanted to post it here so I needed it in English as well.

I read this poem in grade 12 not because I had to, but because I went through my German lit textbook and found it there. It struck a chord in me and judging from the fact that I still remember it over six years later means something. I like the melancholy in it – on some days, it’s all you got.

It’s only tuesday and this week is already a big kill-joy because after over a week of sleeping until noon and staying up way past midnight, I have to go back to uni and my thesis at a sensible hour, which means getting up in the morning – which sucks. Big time.

I don’t remember the last day of sunshine I saw, it was probably around Christmas at my uncles place (btw, for those who care, I chickened out, never got an opening to say what I wanted to say so I didn’t) but here it’s all been grey clouds and rain and mist hanging in the air. Really depressing. The days are short and dark and I’m out of bed way too early for my liking so my mood’s been far from ideal which makes my mind think too much for its own good.

On my way back from lunch today, the poem above popped back into my head and it made me think how in some ways, I’m still the same girl I was six years ago when I first read it and in other ways I so am not. I did grow up because I had to but I’m still the lonely woman in the poem. She is me, it’s that simple.

My Facebook timeline is not helping – a friend uploads a picture of her and her boyfriend, another one changes her relationship status to not single anymore and I feel left out because nothing changes in that department for me. Ever. More and more of my friends are engaged/married/in a relationship and it makes me cynical. Whenever I pass a couple holding hands I want to curse and I’m not even sure why. I also dislike the fact that this is a recurring topic on this blog and am sorry for repeating myself but then again, this is my blog and I can do whatever the hell I want with it.

At the top of my head, there are only 2 of my friends I can think of who are still single and I think it’s mostly by choice and not by lack of opportunity as in my case. Don’t misunderstand me, I am happy for everyone that finds love and is not alone anymore because that is just great but it is like seeing the thing you really, really wanted for Christmas and everyone got it except for you.

It has never been difficult for me to be on my own, sometimes I even look for chances to keep to myself because I’m not used to sharing and being all bubbly and open and everything – and maybe there lies the problem. I don’t need four friends around me at all times, I don’t mind sitting at home alone with a book. Just sometimes, it is too much – too much loneliness and darkness and moodiness to keep it all inside. Today is such a day. Let’s just hope tomorrow will be better.

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