I’m twenty. I keep saying that more in disbelief than anything else. There are certain standards that society (or whatever that weird fog around us, suffocating us) puts before us, and we are expected to follow them. I like to believe that I have one of the most understanding and mature parenthood one could ask for. I’m very close to both my mom and dad, in different ways. And yet they manage to hurt me the most.
Right now, I’m sitting in my room, legs shaking, fingers shaking, because my mom yelled at me for missing a doctor’s appointment. A doctor who’s ‘treating’ me, and so I’m expected to spend three hours in his hospital, every fucking morning. Today I just don’t feel like it (yes, I’m sorry “I don’t feel like doing it” is a real, very real feeling that I hope is respected, some day). So I told her I don’t want to go.
She burst out.
“Of course. Sure. ‘Don’t want to go'(mockingly). Actually, you know what? The doctor was right. It is our mistake. We brought you up this way. Letting you choose what you want to do and when you want to do it. I wish we were like other parents. At least we could be helping you that way. And you think all of this is a joke? The doctor is treating you because your grandfather requested him to. He said he cannot see his grand-daughter like this. He pleaded for help. But sure, you don’t feel like it.”
I walked away.
How do I tell my mother that no one can “treat” sadness? That my anxiety can be suppressed through those fucking medicines, but this…this lump that I feel…that tells me I’m not worth anything (and then the other ‘angel me’ arguing that of course I’m worth something because: “bulletin point 1, 2, 3” liberal arts ftw!).
How do I tell the people who love me the most that I am sad. And that’s okay. That I am okay with it. That they are in fact making it harder for me with all their “concern”.
I wish there was a way to tell our parents (and family) that it is perfectly alright to be sad, without an obvious reason. That we are only growing up, trying really hard to make sense of this world (and failing). That sometimes, with the best of intentions, they only make it harder for us to heal:
“I can’t see you like this”.
“But we’ve always given you everything you’ve needed”.
“Just tell us what it is and we’ll do our best to fix it”.
“But you were such a happy child. What happened now?”
“Remember that if you’re sad, we are sad”. (But why??)
“You won’t understand. Become parents and then you will”.(argh)
You see how it is problematic to care for someone to the point that you’re actually making it harder for them to deal with whatever they’re dealing with? I know my mother only wants to see me better, but Ma, I SWEAR that’s what I want too. Sometimes I doubt that maybe you two (mom dad) want it more than I do (which is again, very weird because how do I make sense of that? Unconditional love, you say. Still weird, I think).
All I’m asking for is for you to trust me. Please.
I know things haven’t been great for me lately, but I’m working on it. Wanting a holiday from a doctor’s appointment might actually be part of my “working on it”. Sadness cannot be conquered by a military schedule, Ma. I know discipline is important (for god’s sake, I’m waking up at 5 am to exercise in my summer holidays. Like, PLEASE)I know there are some absolute yes’s and no’s. But I’m just saying, maybe missing ONE session shouldn’t be an absolute no.
Because what has it given us? You’re angry with me, working in the kitchen, completely ignoring my presence in your life because maybe I feel like a huge disappointment to you right now. I’m cryng to myself, unable to hold myself properly, shaking, all in hiding, because I know even this will make you sad.