Tag Archives: Feelings

Normalcy is overrated, right?

4 Sep

Today I came across a blog post by the lovely Emmy in which she talks about the difficulties she has about explaining where she is from/what exactly made her her. I couldn’t explain it either, there is only one thing I remember about growing up which is still with me in some way – wanting to feel normal.

There is not one single definition as to what makes a life normal and another one abnormal. There are definitions as to what the adjective ‘normal’ refers to but what is a normal human being? How does he/she feel? I guess many people think of themselves as different, so here is my tale.

The first time I felt different was in kindergarten when I was asked what my father’s job was and I couldn’t answer. At that time he still lived with me and mom but I had no clue as to what his job was since he spent most of his time at home but not like a stay at home parent. All I knew was that he was not really unemployed but not really employed either as he was doing stuff that wasn’t cool. Kindergarten!Me didn’t know what to make of it so I said I didn’t exactly know; the first of many such explanations. All I wanted was to be able to say, hey, my dad is a police man, a firefighter, construction worker, secretary etc. but I couldn’t because it wasn’t the truth.

I knew from an early age that my parents weren’t happily married; in fact one of my first memories is seeing my father shove my mom into a wall so hard it left a crack in it. I heard them yelling at each other too many times, mostly about money. To this day I don’t know everything but I know enough to be sure he was an ass. The rest, I really do not want to know. I have no idea why my mom didn’t divorce him sooner but once he moved out of the house I was glad. However it was another thing that said I wasn’t normal – my parents were separated whereas all my friends at school had mostly happy families with parents that were still married and living together without yelling at each other all the time. I wanted that so badly.

In 2003 I had to have surgery on my hip which meant I didn’t have to go on the class trip to France (which I was more than happy about) but it also meant I was running around on crutches for the better part of that year, having physical therapy and all sorts of stuff. Regarding medical issues one can have, my hip dysplasia is a light weight but nevertheless none of the other kids had to explain why they needed surgery. When they were on crutches, it was because they had broken a bone or sprained their ankle like normal kids/teens.

Of course this post couldn’t be complete without talking about being gay since it took me so long to accept that about myself. I have a very specific memory of thinking “Please don’t let me be gay, please, I want to be like everyone else”. I was in fifth or sixth grade by then, maybe even younger. So for the next ten years I wasn’t gay, I was trying to find boys exciting but I failed miserably. When a boy tried to kiss me (at least I think that’s what he was doing) in seventh grade, I just ran away. I had no problem flirting with him over text messages but heaven forbid we were face to face. Back then, I didn’t realise why I ran away from him, or why I didn’t feel what I was supposed to feel about the next one, in retrospect it makes sense though.

To this day I feel like the odd kid out, I frequently cannot remember German words while I know the exact right phrase in English. I watch shows that none of the people around me have watched whereas I don’t keep up with crappy reality TV like everyone else. There are things I feel like someone my age should have experience by now, like falling in love, being in a relationship, going on a date and all that stuff. I don’t have a father anymore, or a mother. I keep the biggest part of my online life secret from most people in my life except my closest friends because they don’t understand why I live online like this. I hardly ever felt normal. I still don’t. Maybe that is a lot of bullshit, lots of people have weird things going on in their lives, I am by far an exception and normalcy is overrated anyway. Just sometimes I’d like to be able to see the normal, easy road ahead of me instead of the unpaved road I usually travel on.

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Not me, but apparently me after all.

6 Aug

Last year at this point in time I could have never fathomed that this would be me some day. I was so overwhelmed with Mom’s care-taking and my academic life that missing her seemed impossible. 12 months later I am sitting here in the middle of the night, missing her like crazy, and this is by far not the first night (or day) this has happened.

When I got the grade for my thesis she was the first and only person I really wanted to tell but I couldn’t for obvious reasons. Not like I told her about my A-levels or all the other times throughout my school life. Instead I spent the entire car ride crying of relief and sorrow over the fact that I was finally done with it but also that I was definitely done with it. Does this even make sense?

I was so happy to not have to worry about the outcome of my studies anymore while being extremely worried about not having a plan that went further then one day at a time. Things have started to become more interesting in the job department which is great. However there are so many things I would like to ask my Mom that I simply cannot and I never expected me to be this person that I read about on many different occasions,.

I’ve lived on my own before in a strange country and solitude is not a problem for me but…

I don’t understand why this is suddenly so hard for me. It has taken me such a long time to actually mourn my loss, it’s ridiculous. There were just so many overlaying feelings that had to subside first. And I keep wondering if this feeling of loss and missing her will ever dull and be a thing I hardly think about anymore. Will it get better when the job thing finally comes through and I am not entirely in between everything anymore? I’ve never been one to cry much but in these last couple of months I have been so not me on this front. Aside from missing her, I miss having my shit together and not started sobbing at random things. Will I ever get to be the person again that I was before the cancer and the death? Mirror, mirror on the wall…

Maybe having my family in town is increasing these feelings of loss. I look at my uncle and see so many of Mom’s features in his face that make it hard to look at him for me. Not even the good features but the face after she lost all the weight and was already sick. Today my aunt asked me what I wanted for my graduation present and I could only answer nothing because she is not supposed to be the one giving me anything. I know Mom would have been all over me with a gift and I would have given her a hard time about it but I would still have expected something. I don’t want Aunt and Uncle to pick up the slack for Mom not being here anymore. I don’t need a present, I already rewarded myself it’s no big deal. Nevertheless I want to know what she had gotten me. I want to know, damn it!

Mirror, mirror on the wall, will I ever stop with all the feelsy stuff?

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!

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.

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