Good morning, it’s been a long while since I’ve done this. If we were having coffee, I would offer you a cup of the limited-edition-roasted-chestnut coffee made from my brand-new coffeemaker. I prefer it black with no cream and no sugar; sticking to my 2020 goals.
If we were having coffee, I would tell you a lot has happened since we last chatted and I think it’s about time to share because since I resurfaced in the blogging world, I haven’t shared what’s been going on with me during the last 6 months.
Basically, my life hasn’t been as rosy and brightly lately. In fact, it’s been a couple of dark months.
My mood was up and down and I was slipping in and out between episodes of depression and anxiety and fear. I honestly didn’t know what was going on with me and I had no one to turn to.
The darkest months were October to December. Going to work was the only thing that made me feel better (for lack of a better word). Those 8, 9, sometimes 10 hours workdays became somewhat of a solace for me, a brief respite to all the craziness at home.
Meanwhile at home, I was an emotional roller-coaster as anger, frustration, and sadness dominated my very core. I was responsible for 7 peoples’ needs and well-being. For example, when my aunt is sick, it became my job to call the office manager to get an approved sick day. My cousin needs to register for classes, it’s my responsibility to make sure he gets into all the right classes even though I had no idea what classes he needed.
I told them to ask my mom and in cousin’s case, an adviser. You know what they said? “We’re afraid of her.”
They’re afraid of my mom and guess what, I got in trouble for helping them.
I stopped helping them after I got blamed when something went wrong. I said, “Suck it up and ask my mom for help. I’m tired to treading on thin ice and getting blamed for every tiny thing.”
Little did I know the worst was yet to come.
In November, my mom’s tenants suddenly left. She wanted to sell the property at once but her youngest sister wouldn’t budge. So day and night, my mom complained about how it was a mistake to put her sister’s name on the title of the property and how her sister was spoiled and selfish. Everyone is selfish in my mom’s mind.
She was like Ebenezer Scrooge – constantly bitter – and the Grinch – stealing the happiness of everyone around her.
One morning in November, she discovered I was creating a Will and I was leaving her only 40% of my asset. She wanted 100%. What kind of mother wants that? Was she expecting to outlive me?
She took the joy from Thanksgiving and celebrating Christmas with her bitterness and drama. By Christmas eve, I was feeling like I couldn’t wait for this holiday to be over but just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, it got worse.
My mom brought up the Will again while we were at my aunt’s house for Christmas Eve dinner. This time, she also mentioned of all the debts I owe her. “I will repay you,” I said.
“What about your life?” She said. “You are indebted to me for giving you life.”
It took less than a second for those words to sink iin. “So basically, I will never pay off my debts unless I die.”
“Careful,” my aunt warned with a glare.
Without another word, I grabbed my jacket and purse, headed to my car, and drove. I wanted to drive for as long as I could, to ignore the rainstorm, to just drive. Who cares what will happen to me? Like my mom said, my life is my debt.
For just the briefest moment, I wanted to cry. Who cares if someone’s watching? I just want all that sadness and crappy feelings from the last few months to flow out of me. No tears came though, not even a single drop.
So I ended up sitting in my car in the middle of a near-empty parking lot, watching the large fat raindrops peeter-patter on my windshield. I needed to talk to someone. “Let it out,” part of me said. I pulled out my phone and called what might be the only person that would understand my situation.
Almost 2 hours later, I returned home that night feeling lighter, like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. The most important thing I learned that night was my life is my life. It’s not anyone’s collateral.
If we were having coffee, I would thank you for sticking around to hear this story of my life and if I didn’t scare you away with this story, come back soon for the next edition of #weekendcoffeeshare.