Today would’ve been my mother’s birthday. She would have been 69 years old, if she hadn't died 16 years ago.
I feel empty. I feel like I haven’t felt genuine pleasure in quite some time. Today was a little worse than usual, but usually I feel melancholic during this time of year.
I feel like I'm floundering. I have no more spark in me. I go to work, power through, & then come home to do nothing but eat, & then sleep. Most days I genuinely do enjoy the stuff that i get to do at work. It’s usually different every day. I’m only working 60 hours a week, & I'm less than 15 minutes from work. I just have no energy to do anything anymore.
I haven’t practiced my instruments in over a year. I started playing again last month, but only twice in the last week.
I suppose what’s been going on with me is a depression. Loneliness is a strange thing to feel, when I don’t like to be around people. Although, I have met two people this year that just about made me want to change from random nights with a person, to wanting a relationship. One was a girl who I had just about everything in common with. She’s beautiful, smart, have similar interests, but she’s got a boyfriend who’s got kids. The other is a smart, hilarious twink, who’s too straight for me.
I hate opening up to people, because I know how I was brought up, or explaining how I was brought up might scare people off. I hate pity, or hearing “that’s rough”, “I feel for you”. I just feel weird with hearing sympathy from people. I suppose deep down I feel like I don’t deserve it.
I wish I still had a mom. I wonder, almost everyday, about what sort of relationship we would have had. I never really cared for my parents, when I was growing up. I didn’t know their names till the day my mom died. 10 years old, before I knew their names. I wasn’t allowed around my dad, or his sided of the family growing up. An uncle recently let me know that it was planned by my mother, before she died, that I shouldn’t get to know his side of the family. As much as I craved to have my mother in my life, that made me question my love for her. My dad’s side of the family reached out to me so much when I was growing up, but I was never allowed to go out. 10 years old, & I knew saying that to them would probably get me in trouble, so I always lied, & said that I forgot, or that I had homework. I never did tell them that I was being physically abused, verbally abused, & prevented from seeing friends & family.
Everyone in my family absolutely loved my mother, & got to know her. I didn’t. I don’t trust anyone, & probably never will. But I clung to this statement that my own mother held a family meeting to get her brothers & sisters to stop me from knowing my fathers side of the family. My aunt who brought me up told me a story about how my mother, & her other sister used to treat my aunt while they lived in Vancouver. I hated that that was what my mother did to my auntie. I love my auntie like she’s my actual mother, but we just don’t have that sort of relationship where we actually say “I love you” to one another. But we talk almost three times a week.
I’m almost 30, & never had a real relationship with anyone. Never really wanted one till this year, but random sex is getting boring.
