That’s really where I’ve been for the last few weeks. There is so much to assimilate in my world that when the time would normally come for me to blurt it all out somewhere I find that more than ever, I’m just quiet about it and it rolls around incessantly in my mind. Partly because I don’t want to give some of the (being fears) any life by speaking them aloud and partly because there isn’t always an available ear to listen that I don’t have to give years of back story to me. More and more I realize that my mom was that to me. The call any time, talk about anything, at any time of day or night for any length of time, as many times as was necessary in my life. The best friend I always wanted. She would have been down to hang out any where too if she was independently mobile throughout my life – but couldn’t. But knowing she wanted and would have to was good enough to me. People offer that to you but try to take them up on it. It’s funny – most people turn their phones off when they go to bed so that desperate 3AM call mostly goes to voicemail. I always have left my phone on through the night. Used to be so that I was sure to get Mom’s call at 3AM if it happened. Or any 3AM phone call ABOUT her. (Strange when I think about it – THAT call? was one I made – not made to me. *smh*) But now it’s just to fulfill that promise to those I do say “call me anytime – i really MEAN that…” but maybe they think I don’t. I think about if this is the process that happened to my mom to make her a “quiet” person. She always got on me about being too loud. Talking too much. And too constantly. But I remember having a stable of people to always talk to. And while I still have really great and true friends – everyone’s wrapped up in their own lives complete with it’s joys and problems. So life’s experiences and issues are discussed every few months or so over mojitos or martinis and then not again for months later.
It was nice having someone to download to every day.
I find myself holding it all in even more because there’s that constant reminder that your baby can feel your mood. So I try to always be as genuinely happy around my little one as I can – even if it’s her I’m worrying about. And I do. A lot. As a mother should, I suppose. But it’s more suppression. And why not talk to the Mr, you say? Well… he tries. Honest. But he’s a man like all men and sometimes the sound of something besides my voice is more attractive. And I get it. Plus lately – there’s been a gap in the comm. I say something, he hears something else and acts on what he heard – not necessarily what I said. It’s a little frightening. I don’t want to get to the point where I have to say “Could you repeat back what I said please?” cause that feels a lot like holding his hand like a little kid. But there are some things I’ll have to do that with because I can’t risk him executing his interpretation. So to that point if I was to unload, I’d want some constructive feed back. Not just him nodding his head hearing what’s on TV or him hearing something altogether different.
I’ve been chatting to my co-worker about networking more – for work purposes – but maybe this could be two fold. Network just to increase the base of people that I know and open up my life to new and different voices. I think I’ll try to start doing that right away. Wish I had something to go to tonight along those lines. Hubs is taking the cherub to his e-board meeting. No real need to rush home. It’ll just be empty.
Empty and cluttered with the makings of this move. UGH. More to think about. Going back in.