Cinema

Tonight I watched a movie about a widower who traveled across the country to visit his kids. Robert DeNiro was in it, so I figured I’d give it a chance. Plus, I saw it as a preview in another movie I watched. I enjoyed it overall…one part of the plot involved the kids talking more to their mother, over the course of their lives, than their father. This continued after their mother’s death as well. They told their father only what he wanted to hear, while being more honest with their mom (the mother kept things from the father also since he worried a lot/pushed the kids to be perfect).

This reminded me of my relationship with my parents (of course lol)..though a tad different. But growing up my sister and I were much closer to my mom than my father. I didn’t lie to my father, but I told him more good things than bad. It was only in the last couple of years before his death (and after my mom died), that I started telling him when I was worried or stressed..or in need. Sometimes.

Watching Robert DeNiro go across the country visiting his kids (NY – Chicago – Denver – Vegas) also made me realize how much I [will] miss growing up (because despite being 28, I still feel, amazingly, like a child lol)..getting older without my parents. It’s something I’ve thought about before, specifically in terms of big life events, but this just made me think of the small things. Small things I know my mom would do and, I guess, small things I might do with my father..and things he’d do in his own way. There are a set of cousins in particular, and their parents, who I love so dearly because of the support they have offered my sister and I, especially in the wake of our parents’ deaths. I see their posts (whether my aunt’s or uncle’s posts about their kids or my cousins’ posts about their parents or their own children) and it makes my heart ache.  I suppose what it boils down to is I don’t feel like a daughter anymore. And the loneliness, the emptiness, of such a realization still hurts.

This is an anomaly for me…two posts so close together. But what am I to do at 2am when I’m mulling over things. I think I’ve liked quotes for awhile, but recently I’ve become all about them. I got The Fault In Our Stars as a birthday gift and read it voraciously over the course of  2 days. I probably could have finished it faster, but I did need to sleep and study lol I loved that book and I want to reread it. It was a beautifully sad book. One thing that one of the characters said stuck with me and I’m certain I marked the page to write it down later. But it is the focus of my thoughts this early/late morning: “Grief does not change you…It reveals you.”

Immediately I think to myself that whoever does read my blog is tired of ‘hearing’ me write about this. But I’m sure a number of individuals would tell me that I can if I want to…I should if I want to…and it is my blog after all lol People don’t HAVE to read. But I digress.

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I try to think of who I was “before”. That’s kind of what I’ve come to think of my life as. Or at least what I’m thinking right now. Who knows, in the morning this could change. There was “before” and there’s now. Obviously I’m not the same as I was “before”. Aside from the ‘events’, time has passed. Regardless I’d have changed. But is there irreparable damage? Sometimes I feel I’m a great deal more callous than I was. I don’t like that I’m like that..I’ve never said I was a really nice person lol I’m sarcastic and monotone, deadpan at times, but callous was not a word I’d have used to describe myself in the past. “Before”. It’s shameful. The logical part of me knows I can’t blame all things on grief. Hindsight is 20/20, it’s true. But hurt people hurt people is also true.

If grief reveals me…I’m not sure I like what its uncovered.

Two weeks ago I had a relatively good week. Definitely wasn’t expected, but I thought it would be fleeting. & it was. But I was talking to C about it and how since I was ‘distracted’, essentially, things didn’t seem as bad.  I’ve been here before…last semester, the day before I was going to see my father, I was pretty happy. Still dealing with my mother’s death, but with C’s help I felt like I was finally making some type of progress. Finally seeing beyond the fog. And then my father died and all of a sudden I was plunged back into the same arena I thought I was emerging from.

Going through the stages of grief I recognize the emotions and thoughts I’m having in regards to my father as similar to the ones I had when my mother died. Of course there are differences because the relationship I had with my father was vastly different from the one I had with my mother. To this, however, we add a third line of now having neither of them which is an entirely different matter. It’s hard to sort through these things, especially given everything else going on…trying to graduate, figuring out what to do after graduation/with my life, along with the other things constantly running across my mind. For someone as analytical as I am, all of this is frustrating and even makes me angry. Recently I’ve been thinking that if I post/say/do something “normal”, that means I’m not…sad (seems inadequate, but it’ll do). Logically, I know that’s not true and I don’t have to put on a happy face..or a sad one for that matter. I don’t have to feel guilty for being happy sometimes or for having a good day. A good week. Smiling. Laughing. By that same token, it’s also okay if I’m angry or sad or whatever the case may be.

It’s only been 2 months and 5 days…I tell myself on a fairly regular basis that I shouldn’t feel the way I do, but it hasn’t been that long. Even if it had been, the fact remains that any death leaves behind its mark on loved ones. And that’s okay. C tells me all the time to give myself permission to feel. Permission to…be angry, be sad, not talk, keep to myself, be…whatever it is that I am. It’s hard for me to do that, but I am going to try. At the same time, I will try to give myself permission to smile when I want to or laugh or have fun.

I’ve lost a lot of motivation…it seems things happen right in the thick of everything else. I have decisions to make and things to think about, but at the same time I’m trying to process all of this and it can be overwhelming. Balance is all off lol Again, I think C would say that’s okay. She’s always talking about taking “baby steps” lol So I’ll try to do that I guess. Take the things I need to do and kind of prioritize and do them in steps. That’s all I can do at this point. I want to avoid going to the place I was in when my mom died, but somehow it seems inevitable because my father’s death automatically makes me relive my mom’s while also having its own nuances. It’s all wrapped up together. I’m deciding to try to fight it and try to remember that as I emerged from the fog before, it can happen again. But the process is not to be rushed. Right now my only goal is not to give up. Despite…everything…I cannot give up.

Somewhere Out There

Does anyone remember the song, “Somewhere Out There”? It’s from the movie American Tail. The one about the mice…Fiefel? Just me? And Ace? lol I haven’t seen that movie in SO long. But the song came first on my Disney Pandora Station (make one, if you like Disney movies..it will change your life) and I remember hearing it like, “…wait..I KNOW this song…” lol Anyway, I was telling a friend of mine yesterday (and I have told Ace before) that the song makes me sad, it makes me want to cry, almost. My friend asked me why and I tried to pinpoint it. I’m not sure I really thought through why this song brought a bit of sadness to my mind, but then I realized it sort of made me think of my mom. The first line of the song  is Somewhere out there/beneath the pale moonlight/someone’s thinking of me/and loving me tonight. Thinking about it, that was one thing that really saddened me and tore my heart when my mom died. I always sort of, whether consciously or unconsciously, thought to myself that no matter what, no matter what happens, my mom will always be out there. I can always go back to her if I need to or want to, or if something goes wrong. This song kind of reminds me of that thought and how, after she died, one of the few things I could think was that I don’t have anyone to go back to. Or I don’t have her to go back to. Mom was synonymous with home so in my heart, all of that took on new meaning without her.

In writing this, I had to also ask myself if I still feel this way. I can honestly say I have felt like this for almost 2 years. And I can’t say it has gone away, but I think maybe I feel a bit differently too. Home will never be the same without her. Christmas/New Year’s was so hard…but I did get to see my family and my sister, all of whom I haven’t seen in about a year. So that was good. But at the same time, once night fell, all I could think about was her and how she wasn’t there. Maybe “home” has taken on a different meaning for me now. While I still wish my mom was here/want her here…I no longer feel completely lost. Well. I do, at times, but it’s also like I have these little beacons out there to draw me in or draw me back. And I am grateful for these people. They can’t imagine how I need them.

So, yes. All of this from a song from a cartoon. People sleep on cartoon soundtracks…but they have some heartfelt things in there.

The Art of People Pleasing

I think I need to remind myself sometimes of what I write about. With the exception of my mom, I don’t want to repeat myself too much. Anyway. I probably touched on this before, but I have definitely come to realize in the past few months that I am an eccentric People Pleaser. And I do not like it. I do it very, very, often and most times with everyone. Even people who, if I was asked about it, I would say I don’t need to please them, but I still unconsciously (or sometimes consciously) do it. And if I’m to be honest, it is quite exhausting. I feel the need to make sure no one is offended by anyone at anytime in my circle, especially if I am the bridge between the two. Sometimes it can’t be helped and there is nothing I can do about it, but I usually try to. One thing I am trying to get through my head is that I can’t protect everyone all of the time and even more than that, in some instances I’m not supposed to. (and I don’t mean protect like from legit danger…hopefully it is understood what I mean) Just food for thought, I guess. I called this “The Art of People Pleasing” because to me and for me, it has to be an art lol But, like I said, it is exhausting. I can’t do everything. I realize that, but sometimes it is hard to put that realization to work.

Certain Uncertainty

**Wrote this a little bit ago. At the time, it didn’t really seem to be how I felt, just something I was writing. Now it kinda is how I feel**

Some days I swear, I feel like I’m dying. When it’s all I can do to just keep from crying. From the inside out, I’m being eaten alive, but never quite being able to leave this life.

So hear: I AM. Here, I am. Here, I stand.

When it’s all said and done, I have nothing to lose, unable to think or unable to move from this trap that’s been set for me. Consciously holding me back from everything I have ever wanted. But I’m dying, see. From the inside out, is the only way to explain it, never before have I been able to attain IT.

I can’t even say for sure what “it” is, but I know that IT is, and that I am, but the question remains what will I be? I stand here because I have no choice and given the opportunity, I have no voice. So what does it mean, you ask of me, but I can’t even tell you that. Even writing these words, I’m really just painting myself into a corner, just one more thing I can’t escape from. And the moment I try, I’m left with the tracks leading me back to the one place I dare not go.

The scream bubbles inside threateningly overwhelming, but I stop it as it gets to my lips and swallow, pushing it back into the abyss.

Not ready.

When, will it be time, when will it be mine, so I’m no longer concerned and consumed about to be swallowed myself? & every time the realization comes upon me, I wonder, weakly, if this might be it, the one, the it, but why take that chance, this is where I reside, where I thrive and…I’m not ready for anything else yet.

Do you feel it, do you feel me, you can’t possibly because if you knew what this felt like, I’m pretty certain you would leave too.

So until that day, I bide my time, pacing back and forth, driving a rut between me and this place not sure if this rock-like feeling is internally me or externally seen so long as it’s not eternally me.