sometimes thoughts be messy
I’m being mean to myself, mean to those I love. I’ve been crying big style, and somehow masking well, doing a great F-ing job in many unexpected ways.
My brain hurts. Let’s start there.
When you lose the best person you’ve ever known, then lose the best dog you have ever had the pleasure of sharing your life with, it’s normal to feel lost, and I am currently deep in the woods. Actually, I’m in bed, comfort water bottle by my side, but you catch my drift. New dark green Autumnal curtains we bought last Saturday give off a similar vibe.
Whatever.
I’m being mean to myself, mean to those I love. I’ve been crying big style, and somehow masking well, doing a great F-ing job in many unexpected ways.
Thursday lunchtime, I wept deep, pit of my stomach tears in the shower, whilst trying desperately to get this stupid pink dye off of my recently bleached hair. There’s very little I can control, but with every ounce I’m hopelessly trying.
I’ve learnt that my reaction to things, my mood swings and grief lately looks a lot like frustration when people in my life don’t behave in the ways I want them to, or when people try to solve my problems for me. There’s also a new weighty fear chipping away at me daily, that in every facet of life now, I have no idea what I’m doing, and am going to be found out for something hideous. Have I done anything terrible? No, but then my brain interrupts me and says… yes, Kate you are an awful awful human. You are going to be found out. Your life is about to end. Everyone you love is going to die and you’re going to either wind up alone or homeless - Isn’t that just totally bloody nuts?!
Earth to Kate!! - bad people don’t worry about being bad.
Recent TikToks I’ve been deep diving into have highlighted to me that some people feel that their body and their brain are two detached entities and I’m one of those people. I think mum was too. Some even call their brain a separate name or even use a different pronoun. Mine is just a nuisance. An unamed devil on my shoulder. An alien I would like to find a new home. A total liar and not my friend. I’m essentially JD from Scrubs. The internal monologue is non stop.
I remember telling mum in 2020 about this messy brain of mine, and the anxiety I had been experiencing at the time working as an agency carer. She opened up in few words with “Where do you think you get that from? I have always felt the same too and I made you.” She told me stories about her young days as a support worker, one particular memory stood out, and I was sad she had experienced something so scary. It was then that I started to recognise our similarities outside of physical features, the tone of our voices or our love for a nice café. Not having her guiding light to help me navigate the tricky stuff is lonely now, even if I’m grateful for the bond we shared, even if I know our relationship was closer than some parents ever become with their children.
It’s bizarre having people tell me lately that I’m doing good things, when internally it’s chaotic up in here, my boyfriend would agree. I can’t help but think, how was I supposed to behave when I was losing my mum? How was I supposed to handle her loss? Or the aftermath of losing my sweet sweet dog so devastatingly 3 months later? I guess some people shrivel up, become a recluse, let the world collapse around them, even let someone else deal with everything. But, mum was a fighter, she literally never stopped until her body made her. She was made of tough stuff, and maybe, so am I. Maybe.
Don’t laugh but it’s really only dawned on me tonight, that no one knows what they’re really doing, we’re all pretending to have control when it’s impossible. Impossible. Even the more adulty adults who I thought had it together don’t really, and that’s okay. Nice to know actually.
I wish I had something more empowering to say, but I’m completely fed up with motivational content lately, that’s not where I’m at or who I’m trying to become. I hate rounding up on a goal or ending on a positive, when the words I’ve typed are heavy and I feel so delicate. It would simply be nice if I could stop loving people so intensely out of fear, if my brain could stay quiet for a while, and if the sun could reappear this August don’t you think?