…from looking down at an odd angle on my sketchbook.
My personal diary is my life saver, but it’s like online reviews: you only write when you’re really happy or really upset. If anyone were to read it they’d think I was the most bipolar person ever…though more depressed than anything else. I wonder if historians have come up with a person’s “personality” based upon their diaries? It would be only one face of the real person given the nature of journals. I mean, this blog here is similar too. I post only certain things, and especially because I know it’s public.
I was just thinking today about how embarrassed I am, still living with my mom and brother and coming up on another birthday. When talking to patients about it I tend to gloss over that portion because most people look down on me for it. Traditional Asian culture would have no problem with it and in fact think it’s great that I am, but American culture doesn’t see it like that. It makes me seem childish, sheltered, naïve, irresponsible and spoiled. At least I assume people think that. It sometimes stresses me out because I do want to be on my own, and then other times I’m glad I live with my mom. While walking the dogs today it came to my mind again, and the thought came to me that I shouldn’t feel bad about it. Other people’s parents have a spouse or significant other to live with and take care of them, but my mom does not. She takes great joy in my dogs and that I can do things like take her to work in inclement weather, as well as having someone to come home and talk to. If/when I move into my own place or start my own family, that won’t be there anymore. By having her at home with me I know that she’s OK. I don’t have to worry and I don’t have to wonder. I don’t have to call her to let her know I’m doing alright, I don’t have to schedule to go grocery shopping with her. We share the burden of grocery bills and if something is going wrong with her health or something in the house, then I know of it. Instead I should cherish it because it won’t always be that way.
My co-worker asked me if M and I have thought about where we want to live yet, and it caught me a little off-guard. I forgot that she’s in a major hurry to get married and start a family, and we had discussed that we don’t want to wait too long because that clock is steadily ticking away. Personally I think she’s moving too quickly in her quest with this new guy. I’d hate to see something bad happen. Come to think of it, I definitely felt that way in the beginning with M, probably around the time we had discussed this. It more than likely was the cause of our initial contentions, alongside my inexperience. Now I don’t feel that way anymore…along the way I’d had SEVERAL clues, several signs that had told me to slow the heck down and wait. I HATE waiting. Patience is hard for me to work through but my life has been a waiting game. Forcing myself to heed the warnings has calmed me down quite a bit and with it came insight and observations that I didn’t notice before. It certainly helped our relationship, methinks. Thinking straight is always a good thing. One of my old friends from UMW got married to her husband within 6 months of knowing him and 1 year later when I finally heard from her again she sounds like they’ve been through some relationship turbulence…something I predicted given the short length of time they spent before marrying each other along with her personality. I knew her longer than they’ve been married.
Go in hard and heavy and passionate, fight, work it out or don’t, then go from there. Even though I don’t see him much anymore, and even though I don’t like it, I must admit that it’s put a new spin on our relationship…stress, challenges that test and try us. It allows us to see each other in a different light, how both of us approach and deal and if we are able to weather such an unfavorable circumstance. I’ve said it before, but there is no way I could do a long distance relationship. This alone has caused me such turmoil I thought I’d explode…and still does depending on the time of the month. Like riding waves. There are days I hate him, days I am apathetic towards him, days I pine for him, days I love him to death, days I’m at ease. Growing pains.
My weekend was a whirlwind of money. Last minute gifts, trying to figure out who was missed. That whole ice storm thing Saturday morning that reminded me that I do love him after all and was overly exciting as I went to chauffeur my mom to work. No matter how my brain tries to break us apart, any time of perceived crisis so far finds me turning to him instantly and he to me. That has to mean something. I felt overly morose this weekend, played HOURS of Candy Crush. My mom is just over whatever sickness she had when all of the sudden I am hit by sinus issues. DAMN YOU WEATHER. Dust. Apparently. I am highly allergic to winter dust around here. Was sick all last winter from it and this year is no different. Fed squirrels and birds, much to the delight of Liana and dealt with old coot Gable who I am still iffy about in regards to his health. Then today I woke up like a new person (turns out I’d been PMSing something awful), spent hundreds of dollars on Xmas food with my mom, baked a bunch of sweet things, marathon gift-wrapped, made foods, chores, managed to work out, and here I am. Sneezed a few times (ugh). I bought way too many gifts this year even though I told everyone I’m poor so don’t go overboard with presents.
I don’t think my Ugly Sweater shirt is coming in time for Christmas this year. Bluh. I wanted to wear it to Christmas too.
OK time to get off and sleep or something. It’s getting quite cold…