It’s T minus 2 days until my main job comes to an end.
I’m at that part of the poster filled with inspirational slogans that tells you to shake your life up! do what you love! leave behind the things that aren’t working for you! ---> and I’m sitting here with a large glass of wine, trying to relax, feeling a knot in my stomach, feeling so lost.
Is it okay to call your mom when you’re lost, if you’re 40? Well, I did. I called looking for some comfort. Some direction. Actually I just wanted someone to tell me what to do. If someone else were to take control of my life for a few months right now until I’ve gotten back on track? I wouldn’t mind so much.
My mom wasn’t so helpful. As soon as she heard that I was stressed she tried to change the subject. She’s of the mind that if you don’t acknowledge someone’s feelings, then they won’t feel them.
[example: “dad’s depressed, but don’t mention it to him in case he latches on to that thought and starts using depressing words to describe himself!” –> me: “I’m thinking dad already knows he’s depressed, and it’s sad that everyone around him is pretending he’s not." –> mom: “Oh he’ll snap out of it, as long as we carry on like things are fine.”]
And that’s pretty much what happened to me as well. Emma’s stressed – uh oh, quick, tell a story and take her mind off it, even through she called because she wants to talk about it. Don’t let her. If she doesn’t say it, it’s not real.
In any case, lack of mother comfort aside, it’s a dark night of the soul. Red wine helps, as always. A long run in the morning will help even more.