It's Saturday. I told my bf that I need a day to myself. So far all I've done is read. I finished "Wish you were here" by Jodi Picoult in 3 days. My eyes hurt but it was so damn good. I love any book that takes place by the beach. It was a really interesting story. I bought this book in Boulder, CO in December but waited to read it for a few months while I finished what I was reading prior. Didn't expect to love it as much as I did so I'm chalking the whole thing up as a win.
My head hurts. I need to grocery shop, clean, and shower. But all I'm doing is sitting on my ass. We were away last weekend, so it's good to be home. My cat is napping, and even though I slept 11 hours, I'm tempted to join. I won't though. I'm going to hop in the shower very soon. I gotta make something of this day. Me and my K. are planning to spend the day together tomorrow.
I called my mom today and she actually answered. We had a decent talk. I am guarded talking to her, and I feel that she is aware of the wall between us. It's been this way for a long time, perhaps it's always been this way.
There have been times when I let the wall down, and opened up, and showed intense emotion. And maybe every so often she'd say the right thing. But most times her response lacks warmth and empathy. She will turn it back to her, and her life. I eventually learned to be careful in being too honest. Because it takes a lot of bravery for me to be vulnerable. When I find the courage to deeply open up about my fear or source of pain, and her response is brief or colder than I hoped, it hurts all the more.
When I choose to confide the true root of an issue that my heart yearns to be supported with, when I ask for help, when I choose to let someone further inside, when I dare to voice the unspeakable, when I detach myself from the front facing façade... I need the person to care. I hope the person will care. I hope the person realizes that I am giving them something I don't give many people. The chance to see me, the chance to know me, the chance to help me. I thought parents wanted to help their kids. I thought moms were supposed to want their daughters. But she tends to act like she doesn't care that much. In our family, there's so many kids, and only the two of them. We get pieces of each other. Sometimes it feels like I only get crumbs.
On that happy note, I'm gonna stop writing this entry.
Have a great day, all.
1 comment:
Welcome back Sar! It’s good to see you around again.
Few things beat a quiet day alone with a good book. I think napping with a cat might though.
I’m sorry your relationship with your mother isn’t as it should be. It sounds like you’re right to be wary. When you’ve put yourself out there in such a vulnerable way, and they don’t seem to realize it, sometimes it’s healthy to take a step back and set a boundary. If they don’t appreciate you letting down your guard and seeing the inner you, maybe they don’t deserve the privilege. If it’s only going to lead to more hurt, sometimes it’s just not worth it.
Take care xx
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