2:15 AM and I don’t really know what I’m doing with my life
It’s 2:15 at night and I’m just sitting here after getting my mum admitted in the hospital again.. thinking about my life and how, honestly, everything feels like it’s falling apart in some way.
People probably think I’m a resilient person. And maybe I am. I’ve somehow kept going through things that I didn’t think I could. But I have my moments too. And sometimes it just fucking sucks.
I had thought my career would look very different. A lot of things have turned out differently from what I had chosen for myself. I’m still working on it. I’m still trying. But there’s so much fear and confusion around it that I don’t even know what I’m supposed to feel anymore.
And then there’s my mom’s terminal illness. That scares me in a way I don’t even know how to explain. What scares me almost as much is seeing how directly it affects my father. I’ve seen him be so fragile, and it’s terrifying. You realise that your parents are just people too, and sometimes there is absolutely nothing you can do to protect them from what’s happening.
And then there’s this loneliness.
That fucking loneliness that grips you no matter how strong you keep trying to be.
Yeah, I’ve monkey-branched. I’ve made questionable choices. I’ve looked for people in the wrong places and knocked on the wrong doors. I was looking for my person, I guess. But somewhere along the way, I lost myself instead.
I lost parts of my own conscience. My sense of reality. I kept looking for something in other people that I probably needed to find in myself.
And especially during illness, when someone just… left. I don’t even know what to say about that anymore.
People can say all the comforting things they want. “You’re strong.” “You’ll get through this.” “Everything happens for a reason.” “I understand.”
Sometimes none of it means anything.
People say, “I never knew it could feel that way,” and honestly, that’s the truth. You can say whatever words you want, but some kinds of pain cannot be explained to another person. And sometimes all those words just bounce off you because they cannot possibly reach where you are.
But if I’m close to someone, and they just hug me, or hold my hand, or sit with me for a while…
Somehow, for a brief moment, the pain goes away.
Not because anything has changed.
My mother is still ill. My father is still hurting. My career is still uncertain. I’m still confused about my own life.
Nothing has magically become okay.
But sometimes, for a few minutes, I can breathe. And right now, I think I’ll take those few minutes for what they are.