Hello! I’m currently sitting at a Second Cup coffee shop at school. Soon I’m going to have to leave to work, but I thought I would take this moment to jot down a quick log while I have a moment to myself.
The new book that I’ve begun is so, so good. It’s prompted a lot of thoughts and self-reflection, and you know what’s amazing? I’m feeling centred again. It’s such a good feeling to have. I didn’t realize how off-kilter I was going recently. Why was that? Perhaps it was because I was beginning to neglect my spiritual self, my mental self, or emotional self. I got to a point where I was just hurtling through life again, letting the days pass by in a blur rather than actively being involved and present in each day.
And that’s okay! I knew for a fact that this journey would not be a steady incline upwards. Rather, a series of roving hills, up’s and down’s, but gradually heading upwards as I continue to climb. I knew there was bound to be some bad days, or days that I got caught up in the flak and energies of my day to day living.
Organizing what I’d like each and every one of my days to look like and how I need to divide my time on a daily basis has also really helped to get me back on track. I figured out that if I prioritize correctly and healthily, I can easily find time to work out 3 times a week, meditate at least 3-5 times a week for a minimum of 10 minutes, read for pleasure for an hour or so every day, and also keep up with school and work.
I kept feeling like I had no time for any of the things that helped me to remain centred, so I MADE there be time for those things.
There are a couple things that I would like to address. The incident with my mom on Wednesday night, some of the introspection I’ve done recently as a result of a conversation I’ve recently had with Nick. I think maybe it’s best if I get on the bus first to head to work. And, if I do end up getting a seat, it means I was meant to continue this. If I do not, then it means that those things are meant to be addressed in tomorrow’s log instead. We’ll see what’s meant to be in a moment…
I got a seat after all! So I have about 20 minutes to type freely. Hmm let’s see… I’ll talk about what happened with mom and my corresponding thoughts and emotions.
(Also, quick note to self: I’d like to write down all of my personal mantras so that I can speak them into existence every morning. For example: “I do not care what other people think of me or how they perceive me and my intentions. I know my personal truth and myself, and that is all that matters.” Stuff like that, empowering statements.)
So earlier this week, (wow, it already feels like forever ago), my mom and I got into a… disagreement? Debate? Fight? I don’t know which word to use in this context. It was a little of each I suppose.
It was about how I haven’t graduated yet, same old song and dance. I tried to tell the truth for once, for my own sanity’s sake and also because I’ve truly gotten to a place in my life where I’ve accepted where I am and how I got here.
She panicked, blew up at me, and I suspect she spent the night crying.
I figured it would blow over within a couple days, and she spent a couple days not talking to me, which was fine. But Wednesday, it escalated for the worse.
It started with her giving dad an old expired credit card to pay for some fixtures for the car. My dad got frustrated since the card wasn’t working, and my mom was losing her head trying to think of solutions and explanations as to why the card wasn’t working (she hadn’t realized at the time that she had given him an expired card).
My dad ended up coming home and asking her why that happened and she snapped, yelling that she’d finally gone crazy with everything that was happening at home and that she was out of her mind. She yelled that she was tired of living and that she couldn’t wait to “join her dad” (my grandfather passed away about two years ago).
My dad was taken aback and even he suggested that if she was feeling that way, that she should get some help, to which she refused. After that, he left to his second job, and Olivia came home from school, so it was just us three at home.
Sometime in the evening, my mom went up to my sister and asked her a question. I wasn’t quite listening because I had earphones in and I was watching a show, but my attention was caught when I heard their voices beginning to escalate. I caught the gist of the conversation: my mom had approached Natasha and asked her if she could help her change her will and life insurance policy so that it included both mine and Olivia’s name.
When my sister asked her if it was because she didn’t want to live anymore, my mom said yes. I was watching just in time to witness my sister yell “well thank you for having no faith in me whatsoever”, burst into tears, and then go completely catatonic as silent tears streamed down her face. My mom immediately left the vicinity, and I went right over to Olivia to ask her what had happened and what my mom had said.
Olivia refused to speak though, and after a while she merely muttered that she didn’t want to talk, and that she was going for a walk. She left the house, and I sat down in the kitchen trying to compose myself because I was beginning to see red, a tell-tale warning sign that my super rare temper was about to flare.
I’m extremely protective of my sister. She is my life, and it’s my duty to protect her as much as I humanly can while understanding that she’s meant to experience her life on her own terms. But I spent a majority of my life watching her get hurt, through people’s blithe comments or my parents discord, and I watched her grow into a person who is guarded, sensitive, and afraid. A person who didn’t know how to love herself. She’s trying now though, and that makes me happy. But I digress.
Okay, I have to get off the bus to grab the train. I’ll brb.
Alright I’m on the train now. I probably have mere moments before I’ll be at work, so I’ll try to write as much as I can before I begin, and continue the rest when I can.
Anyways, back to that night. My sister left, and I could hear my mom speaking to someone on the phone upstairs, about her will. And I messaged Leila and Avery in an attempt to stay sane, stay centered, to not snap.
I love my mom, I do. I am thankful for everything she’s ever done for my sister and I. She’s worked hard for the better part of her life in order to send us to school, to pay for it so we wouldn’t have debts afterwards. She burnt herself fighting the fire in our garage because of her catering orders, damaged her wrist nerves and worked countless weekends at Sheraton until her body ached, scrubbed toilets and floors and took care of handfuls children throughout these years. I am aware of all of this.
I am also aware that she’s been diagnosed with depression. I am aware that she’s angry, confused about why she’s feeling the way she is, unable to help herself. I am aware that she feels she has no reason to live, no future to live for that will be free of pain. I am aware that she is tired.
But nothing, none of that awareness, could suppress my anger and my resentment that I felt towards her in that moment. I know I was once at that low point as a child, considering taking my own life because I was in so much pain and I didn’t see a way out.
I have to begin my shift now, but I’m sitting outside for a moment in the sun to just breathe and center myself again. Writing about all this… it brings back a lot of emotions that I had to struggle to let go of on that day. I won’t carry them with me into everything I do. I won’t let myself. So I’m breathing, and letting go, and getting excited for my work shift. Smile, Steph. You’re going to be seeing people you love to work with, who you care about and who care about you.
I feel a lot better. Off to work I go!