I had these aching thoughts running through my head just minutes ago… why do people feel the need to be noticed? Why do we expect people to acknowledge us? Do we expect society to see us, notice us and hear us? Would we be able to live if we were ignored, unheard and lost?
Are we programmed to expect attention? Do we succumb to societal pressures to impress and guide people to notice us?
A moment ago, I felt as if my voice was lost and my thoughts were unheard. I suddenly felt as if I would be standing in a room full of people and yet I’d just blend in with the wallpaper. I would disappear. But I don’t want to disappear. I want to be subtle yet seen.
I’ve had to live most part of my life with my thoughts locked away in silence because I didn’t think anyone would be ready to hear my voice. I chose to cocoon myself and do I regret it? Yes and no…
The desperate need to seek a listening ear. Desperate need to voice our thoughts. Do we seek the many social media platforms as an outlet for our emotional needs?
I’m writing and confessing my thoughts because I feel the need to voice them. And I know that they can go unheard.
Release the emotions like an overflowing barrel, let not the unexpected cloud your confessions.
I feel as if my life force was sucked out of my very being. I’m afraid I can’t elaborate further. Or let me just try…
I woke up this morning tired and extremely exhausted. It happens when your toddler is wide awake at 7am and running at 110%. I had to force myself out of bed, make her breakfast and forcefully nudge my brain to “mother” mode. I was on “zombie” mode the whole night perhaps.
I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I couldn’t talk much. I felt as if I was working too hard to breathe. Thankfully my husband was around to hold the fort. But of course my daughter had to get me involved in her games even though I was one with the sofa, trying hard to become a piece of the furniture.
I think I must have knocked out. Like an invisible punch to the soul and I was out! The next thing I remember is my daughter taping on my nose and saying “mommah shall we go out?”
And of course that meant me dragging my almost lifeless body out of the sofa and getting changed. Who cares what I was going to wear. I am too tired to care.
And so the day went by with lunch and swim class for my daughter and then dinner and now I’m lying in bed, staring at this post wondering how I survived… is it the weather? Does it have to do with bad diet?
The more I try to analyze, the more my brain says “STOP! STOP IT!! IT’S GETTING TOO NOISY IN HERE!!”
I could not think of a more apt title for how I was feeling almost every day of my life since I became a mother.
The joy of mothering and the joy of simply breastfeeding my child and the feeling of being wanted even if was just for food, was just heavenly. I suffered more while breastfeeding than I actually enjoyed cooing and singing through it. But I still persevered through weekly blocked ducts and blisters and you name it, I’ve painfully experienced it. I was blessed with a God-sent Lactation consultant who taught me how to cope with the difficulties that just never seemed to cease. My husband was a pillar of support who was my strength. Without them, I would have stopped a long time ago.
My daughter is turning 3 in July and she has finally (and very sadly) stopped breastfeeding at 30 months. Just this end January, she stopped. Didn’t ask for feeding and just tried to sleep on her own. I felt empty. Like a gush of cold wind passing through my soul. I felt lost. My daughter didn’t need me anymore. I was no longer needed. I am sure she was not thinking as I was but I felt lonely. It was special for me when I used to feed her. She would touch my face. Talk to me. And then it stopped. Now I gotta work even harder to find moments to recapture that bond.
I am a working mother. I am an educator (I teach). I drop off my daughter at the childcare center at 7am in the morning because I need to rush down to school for the assembly period. My daughter is the first child there. It breaks my heart and I was judged by a few. But it’s become a routine now. We fetch her (at least I do), at 6pm (at the very latest). And she is now one of the ‘leftovers’. It tears me apart when she (together with her group of 12-14 friends), sit in a playroom, read and flip pages while waiting to be picked up. What are they feeling? How does she feel?
She once told me “Mommah why go work? Why fetch me so late?” My heart is no longer whole to be broken anymore. What have I done? My daughter loves school. She learns so much. She loves her friends and teachers. But I feel she wants to be picked up earlier. She wants to spend more time with us. When I stand at the glass doors of her childcare center, and when she sees me, she comes running with so much joy and smiles that subtly speak “Mommah you are here!!”
Have I made a mistake to return to work? Should I have continued being a stay home mum? When people judge me and pass comments about my daughter being in full day child care, I feel really useless. I can’t speak the same for daddy. He feels terrible coming home later and having so little time for her.
Someone told me that I should make it quality time and not bothered about the quantity. Make memorable moments count. And to stop feeling guilty about being a working mum. Working mums love their children too.
I am observing, just wondering does life go on after someone close to you passes on… My colleague, shes a good friend and recently she lost her mother to breast cancer. She took 3 days of compassionate leave and then another 2 days of urgent leave. She was gone for a week. Now she is back at work, keeping herself busy and occasionally participating in our random workplace jokes, rants and sarcasms.
It must take a lot of strength to be back at work, pushing on full speed and doing all routine things like as if nothing happened a week ago… How does she do it? She is a mother of 2 kids and I am sure she has to find that inner strength to be sane and strong for her 2 sons. How to do you compartmentalize your emotions and thoughts?
Someday (**touchwood) if and when time decides, how do I cope? We can’t be stagnant and mourn forever… Our dearly departed would be looking out for us from up above and wanting us to live a full happy and content life. And yet now I cringe at the thought of it…I am perhaps too weak and I may never be able to recover and pick up the broken pieces.
I lost my first ever friend to brain tumor at the age of 11. She spoke to me one day and then the next she was scheduled for brain surgery and she passed on during surgery. She departed at the age of 11. I didn’t get to say goodbye. I will never get to say goodbye. So for years I was angry with myself for not saying it enough. For not meaning it well. I should have said it when she was still around. It’s been too many years and some days I do think back about how we spent our childhood days together. How we used to sneak out to each others’ house and play while our parents would throw a fit because they didn’t know where we were. Those were some amazing days. Cherished memories.
After countless years, I’ve finally moved on and I’ve finally let her go.
May her soul rest in peace. My first ever friend…you will always be loved.
It’s full moon today. And apparently, it’s called a Pink Moon. From where I’m viewing it, it surely looks orange to me. Or maybe I am just not good with shades.
I get really emotional during full moon phases. There are times I feel suffocated, unjustified. There are times I used to feel sad and overwhelmed with tears. I would cry for no reason! There are moments I felt I needed an outlet to scream because I could no longer contain the screams in my head. Rest assured, I am not psychologically challenged.
I started noticing a certain trend in the recent months. A day or two leading to a full moon, my daughter (she’s 2.5yrs old) and I get into heated disagreements. For some reason, my daughter triggers me just as it reaches full moon. She starts disobeying, an array of tantrums, scream fest and cry fest. It would get really frustrating for the both of us. I would find myself losing patience and not being able to reason with her like I used to. And it lasts from the day towards full moon and on full moon day itself. Then a day later, she’s back to her usual fun, loving and adorable self. And when you look back, you’d say “what just happened? Bam!”
So my husband and I have conveniently decided to “blame” it all on the full moon for these weird changes to our emotions. Instead of telling ourselves that we are dealing with an independent wannabe toddler, we are blaming a moon. I’m just laughing at what I wrote.
He quoted from a philosopher, “If the moon affects the tides, why wouldn’t the moon affect us humans when we are after all an average of 60% water?” All I could say was… “wow…” Something to think about?
Have I told you… that I am a daughter, sister, wife and mother. Life was complicated when I had to fulfill responsibilities as a daughter. And then it became more challenging as a sister. Maybe life got a little easier as a wife because I married someone who loves me for me. Sounds cheesy? That’s just how it is.
When you add all four together into the recipe of life… It just gets a little difficult to handle. You never know who to please, who to avoid, who to support. Do you try to be civil with family? Do you sit on the fence? I am looking for answers.
Someone once told me… life never presents you answers in a silver platter. If it does, then you should just ignore those because they will most probably lead you to your downfall. Should I trust in those words?
I never knew why but the moon was always a part of my very existence. I am always drawn to a full moon. It’s like a calling. Soft gentle whispers that startle yet influence your mind to just stop and look. A sight so beautiful, if I were a wolf, you’d hear me howl. You’d feel the moonlight cast shadows and transform your reality into a projection of self realization. You transform. You feel lifted and transform. The moon harnesses.