The Fiction of Control
I'm kind of a control freak. I readily admit that. In most situations, I keep my emotions in check and instead favor the reality, the logical, the tangible. Sometimes that can fall like the house of cards that it really is.
Every last one of us has emotional baggage. It could be as a result of upbringing, a relationship gone wrong, illness, or a host of other issues. My particular brand stems from abandonment. Freud would probably attribute that to my issues with my biological father, but whatever. Freud was a freak and over-obsessed with penises. The point is: whenever I lose someone in whatever way; whether a lover, a family member, or a friend; it somehow bypasses my façade of control and hits me at the core like a punch to the gut.
In the past week I've lost two people in ways that are completely out of my realm of control. Random events have occurred that have shaken me past the point of my comfortable reality and my ability to predict my own reactions. I haven't had the time to process these events yet and figure out just what aspect or moral I'm supposed to make a part of my new reality.
I just got off the phone with my mother. She's spent the last week with my grandmother at the UNC-CH Hospital where she had what can most definitely be considered brain surgery. Upon arriving home, she noticed that my grandfather is steadily getting worse with one of the complications that she had been warned about as a result of his cancer treatments. He has a doctor's appointment tomorrow where we will learn the implications of his current issues.
All of this to say, I'm worried about my mom. Usually, I can be the rock that she can lean on until she can pick herself back up from the dark twisty place. I'm terrified that if bad news gets delivered tomorrow, that I will be unable to be the support for her that she needs and I will go ape shit crazy for a little while. I've already prepared my sister. She's the only one other than me who I know can be that strong for her if/when the need arises.
Whatever happens, I know that I'll be able to deal with it eventually even on top of all the other stuff. I'm strong. I'm a whole lot damn stronger than I was the last time life came crashing in on me. My only real fear is that I will not be able to control my emotions enough to help her when the time comes. I know that I'm surrounded by people here who love me and will support me through whatever I can't handle. I know that is not true for her there. I worry. A lot.
Every last one of us has emotional baggage. It could be as a result of upbringing, a relationship gone wrong, illness, or a host of other issues. My particular brand stems from abandonment. Freud would probably attribute that to my issues with my biological father, but whatever. Freud was a freak and over-obsessed with penises. The point is: whenever I lose someone in whatever way; whether a lover, a family member, or a friend; it somehow bypasses my façade of control and hits me at the core like a punch to the gut.
In the past week I've lost two people in ways that are completely out of my realm of control. Random events have occurred that have shaken me past the point of my comfortable reality and my ability to predict my own reactions. I haven't had the time to process these events yet and figure out just what aspect or moral I'm supposed to make a part of my new reality.
I just got off the phone with my mother. She's spent the last week with my grandmother at the UNC-CH Hospital where she had what can most definitely be considered brain surgery. Upon arriving home, she noticed that my grandfather is steadily getting worse with one of the complications that she had been warned about as a result of his cancer treatments. He has a doctor's appointment tomorrow where we will learn the implications of his current issues.
All of this to say, I'm worried about my mom. Usually, I can be the rock that she can lean on until she can pick herself back up from the dark twisty place. I'm terrified that if bad news gets delivered tomorrow, that I will be unable to be the support for her that she needs and I will go ape shit crazy for a little while. I've already prepared my sister. She's the only one other than me who I know can be that strong for her if/when the need arises.
Whatever happens, I know that I'll be able to deal with it eventually even on top of all the other stuff. I'm strong. I'm a whole lot damn stronger than I was the last time life came crashing in on me. My only real fear is that I will not be able to control my emotions enough to help her when the time comes. I know that I'm surrounded by people here who love me and will support me through whatever I can't handle. I know that is not true for her there. I worry. A lot.