Sad as it might seem that it took my mum’s health being on the line to bring my family close, I’m still glad that something did!
For the first time since I can remember, I actually sat down with my parents; making jokes and all, without being forced to do so. It was me, creating memories that most people probably experience in their childhood, but all the same, it was great, even if I get to experience it as an adult.
Since the whole ordeal with my mum’s health started, I became solely responsible for looking after her; I guess it’s not surprising that we got closer. I can’t help but feel strange each time I think about it though. This is the same mother with whom I couldn’t spend up to thirty minutes a day in her presence; now we can spend hours together! My father and I, who had only football in common, now find something else to laugh about. My grandmother, who was the first person to ever call me a loner, now, wants to hug me when I’m away for a day because she misses her amazing granddaughter. It’s definitely a lot to get used to, but the price for it hasn’t been little either!
As my mum couldn’t do her duty as the mother of the house given the situation, I had to assume her role. From cooking to cleaning; basically everything that has to do with the house. In our house, everyone decides what they want to eat for each meal, so we can cook about three different dishes each time (Which I found out recently, is, actually unusual for a family and not as cool as I thought it was). It is also one of the things I have to do alone since my sister is considered too young and inexperienced.
For the first week it was alright. I felt like I could manage it all on my own. I was there the minute my name was called. Before they said they needed something, I already thought of it and made it available. I guess they got so used to it, that no one thinks it’s an issue anymore to wake me up from sleep for even the smallest thing. I get called so many times a day that I have lost count. Carry this, move that, bring those, on and on it goes.
By the second and third week, it was starting to get to me!
How does a person that only cared about herself become someone that has to care for four extra people overnight? Having to worry about their every whim? I got more and more frustrated with the situation. Each day became more difficult to get through. I told my best friend about it and she said that I should explain to them that it’s all too much for me, that I needed them to cut me some slack and help out, but how do I do that?
For the first time in my life, my family actually see me as someone they can praise without it having to do with my academics. For the first time, I heard my parents thank me for being around. It wasn’t the usual, “You are of no use!” that I had heard year in, year out. How could I then tell them I can’t continue like this? I just couldn’t bring myself to.
Either option is unfavourable to me!
I don’t want to lose what it seems like we have now. But, I can’t help but feel that with each moment that I continue like this, the closer I get to breaking down. It’s been a month now and I’m not even sure how long all of this is going to be for.
I spend my day wondering, “Will today be the day when everything is going to go back to how it was or will I be able to endure for one more day…?”
It’s always feels strange whenever we have that rare mother-daughter moment. Especially with everything that has been going on of recent. I had gotten use to playing the mother role and even before that, it was more of a relationship between two adults.
As I sat down on my bed with my mum rubbing ointment on my hand and asking where it hurts, the thought that came to me was how rare but nice it was.
By this time even though I wasn’t saying anything, my body was beginning to complain for me.
It started with a migraine. I had had migraine before but it’s been so long ago that I had forgotten that I use to have them. It usually was as a result of staying in crowded or noisy places so I was quite surprised since I spend most of my time at home.
This time around it was nothing like I had ever experienced. It affected more parts of my body than usual.
I thought even though it was severe surely it wouldn’t last for more than four days. By the time it had gone on for a week and I had had other symptoms, I was starting to get worried.
I started having all kind of thoughts about what it could be while trying to convince myself that it was probably just a longer lasting migraine nothing more except I didn’t exactly believe my own words. So I decided to book an appointment with the doctor.
After I explained my symptoms to the doctor, the first question she asked me was if there was anything going on in my life that is causing me stress.
All I could think of was how impossible it felt to admit that my life was stressful while my dad was right beside me.
I knew if said yes she would most likely have asked what was going on and that was something I definitely wasn’t comfortable enough to bring up. So I told a blatant lie.
I told her I wasn’t going through any stressful time (I asked God for forgiveness right after). I don’t think she believed me though. She went on to explain that the only thing that could help me was to find the cause of the migraine and stay away from it to get better since there is no actually cure for it.
After we got home, my parents were back to ‘you can go and rest. You don’t need to cook so much; we’ll take care of ourselves’. But I couldn’t believe their words. That same day I was asked to go cook again.
What gets to me more is how much they go back on their words. They do it so much that their words tend to hold no meaning to me.
There was a hospital appointment today and I decided to go with them. Just before we left the house my dad suggested that I stay back since I wasn’t feeling too well but since I’ve always gone along to every appointment I said I didn’t mind.
On our way back, even before we left the hospital, my dad was already telling me that I would need you to cook for him when we got home. Was this not the same person that said I needed to rest?
My mum was quick to say she would do it instead. But each time she does that I always feel guilty and end up telling her its fine for me to do it even when I really don’t want to; today was no different.
When I think about it all, I start to wish I could just go back to school and live by myself. But I always end up berating myself for been selfish. After all, I’m only doing my duty as a child…. right?
These days I find myself longing to go back to school so much. I miss living alone. I miss doing whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. I miss my freedom!
As each day passes, I realise just how much I enjoy my solitude. I would rather be alone for a month than be around people for a week (I’m thinking it should be the other way round right?)
I have become so comfortable being alone that I sometimes see people being around me as invading my space. So staying in a house of five people, who are around each other very often, is something I have a difficult time adapting to.
Sometimes it feels like we are in each other’s faces so much that I just want to hide away in my room. I guess given the situation, we’ve had going on of recent; we’ve had more reasons than ever to be involved with one another.
I also realised something else; the more negative conversations I have with people, the faster I withdraw from them. About two months ago, when I came back home to look after my mum, it was nice to be around family as I had been away for a while. Because of the hospital visits and the likes, we got to spend more time with each other than we had in a long time, which started out fine since we had to encourage one another.
As the days turned into weeks, the proximity started to get to me. Spending so much time together made each of our faults much more glaring than before. It was easier to see what this person did wrong or what that person said that they shouldn’t have.
I started getting tired of my family noticing me so much. Since the comments started out positive, I liked it (in my house that is a very rare occurrence), but to get those comments, I had to work myself to the bone.
After a month, my body began to complain. I had given it too much to do in a short period of time, so I tried slowing down. But the people around me were not impressed! It started going back to how it was before.
The conversations became less praise worthy and more rebuking. I started going back spending more time alone at a speed that surprised even the people around me. I guess they had started to forget that I used to live in my room. They had gotten used to seeing me around more. But that was starting to wear me out.
By last week, I was back to having as little desire to be out of my room as possible. I tried to do all I need to do downstairs at times when I think no one would be there. I started avoiding my parents once again.
I tried to hide the fact that things were going back to how it was by putting on a cheerful face when people were around, but the smile was beginning to hurt my face and slipping off… like the day I had an argument with my mum.
It didn’t help matters that the next day I decided to stand in the kitchen all through the time that I was cooking rather than sit in the living room with my dad and grandma; which my dad found ridiculous and pointed out in annoyance. But it was clear that I was going back to staying away from them and they were back to making accusations without learning the facts.
In the past, the constant friction that happened each time we spent time together was the norm for me, but I guess the fact that things were going well for a while made coming back to reality more disappointing than ever.
I don’t know if it’s going to be a continuous downward movement. I’m going to try not to worry about that and just spend each day as it comes, as much as I can.
generationlac 