Any newcomers to this blog and, well, to my life, would be forgiven in thinking I was a cataclysmically depressing person. That would be true because I am currently going through the worst year of my life.
The year started with my boyfriend of three years and my family falling out in a major way. This may seem like a small thing, but I actually live with my parents, and it boiled down to a choice between him and them. That was not really a choice. My parents are getting older, I love them dearly, and I am an only child. I spent two months desperately trying to knit together what I thought was a torn relationship. My family has had massive fights before, and we’ve always repaired it and moved on stronger. I thought the same thing would happen with my boyfriend. It didn’t.
Finally, in February, we called it quits. The sheer exhaustion got to me. It got to him. It was over. Officially, anyway. I couldn’t wipe away the true feelings of love in an instant. If truth be told, I still harbour a little love for him in a dark corner of my heart.
Then, my father fell sick in March. It became our top priority to get him better. We tried everything. Nothing worked. Then something did work, and he got a little better. We rejoiced, and the next day he died.
Shocked? So were we.
Then, in June, I sort of lost my job, without any alternative lined up. Were we going to return to our financial troubles? I had no idea. I picked myself up, and I was fortunate to have a project fall into my lap. I have been hustling as far as possible, swallowing my dignity about unacknowledged messages and phone calls, doing terrible work because that’s what the client wants, and fighting my team’s battles. All this, while my mother’s jewellery line is making fledgling moves to take off, and it requires more and more capital pumped into it.
All the while, I wonder if the money I have saved through the months of work will carry us through. I’m not worried, because being destitute isn’t as bad as losing my dad, but it does make me a bit of a grump. Sorry.
The worst part about all of this is that I lost my best friend when I broke up with my boyfriend. My mother will never understand why I miss him, because of their disagreement, and I can’t confide in her. My friends have lives of their own. And the one person I can talk to is still in the process of learning about my personality, as I am his.
That leaves my blog. An unresponsive blank canvas for my rambling thoughts. Eventually, I hope to write myself into a good mental state, sort of like therapy.
So, if I seem like I am a downer, it is because I am, fictional reader. I am sorting out the jumble in my mind, hoping that thoughts swirling with ferocity in there will dissipate and resolve if I type them out here. It is a hope.