Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Talking about it doesn't make it better.

Contrary to popular belief, I can be an intensely private person. Sure, I'll give someone more information than they ever needed to know about some things, but when it comes to talking about me, about how I feel, about my goals, desires, beliefs, or mantras... it takes dynamite to get me to open up.

With my work drama finally out of the way, I feel like I've been able to breathe a bit easier. Things have been looking up, and I'm getting back into apartment hunting (which is pretty easy when no one has a vacant closet, let alone an apartment).

But my hope for one single drama-free week was for nothing. My wonderful family has come to the rescue again and provided me enough worry for another month. Just one more reminder that the world, is in fact not all about me. Good lesson to learn, by the way.

My cousin and his wife lost their baby this weekend. She was 8 months pregnant with their second child. Doctors knew the baby would have some kind of birth defect, but either they didn't know or wouldn't say. This is the first child lost in my family.

And then today, my mother woke me with more bad news: her mother went into emergency surgery this morning to repair a perforated small intestine which had also become blocked. The surgeons also discovered a hernia which they fixed, and did some other exploratory surgery. Grandma was in the hospital in July for a double angioplasty and three years ago for a triple bypass. She also has diabetes. There isn't much else left to go wrong in her body! I went to see her after work tonight, and she didn't look very good. They have an NG tube suctioning her stomach contents out. Oh, yeah, remember that gagging reflex? Apparently the sight of half-cooked fecal matter triggers it as well. Anyway, this is quite a setback for her, and recovering from the surgery might take a few months. Not the worst news to wake up to, but still... it definitely wore at me all day.

My friends would ask me how I'm doing or if I'm okay--and in truth, I'm fine. I am healthy and happy. Except for the fact that my family is going through some rough spots and I don't feel like troubling anyone with these facts. I don't rely on my friends for the deep stuff. Because talking about it doesn't make it better. I've never felt like discussing my emotions makes them lessen or get better or change.

Tonight, I went out with some friends to celebrate a very special birthday. I had a great time! Part of me was there, living in the moment, laughing and being social. Another part of me was incredibly unhappy and wanted to leave every second. Stupid emotions.

A friend promised to call tonight, and I'm anything but surprised that the phone has yet to ring. Not that I'd talk about the important things... talking about it doesn't make it better.

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