So today — er, yesterday — was my dad’s birthday. I went to work and felt stressed out but that was a big deal by the end of the day because I got to travel up to Evanston to meet my sister for Chipotle and grab a carrot-cake cupcake (carrot-cake was my dad’s favorite). I also talked to my mom and she mentioned how nice it was a few people remembered it was my dad’s birthday.
Sunday was Father’s Day, which I spent alone in my apartment working. It really hit me then because my roommates weren’t around because they were hanging out with their fathers. I can’t do that anymore. And that made me really sad.
There’s a big, scary part of me that thinks I might be overworking myself like my dad and trying to do everything like my dad and maybe even neglecting my health like my dad. I don’t want to do that. So the part of me that’s normally saying, “Hey! Listen!” is now screaming at me, shouting cacophonies of unease and imbalance so I don’t just stop and pause, but am startled out of submission.
There is so much going on in my head right now. I’m surprised it hasn’t burst out of me with an emphatic whimper, the contents spilling onto the floor, just another mess for someone — whose job it is not — to clean up.
