Rough Monday

I was lying in bed trying to sleep and I needed to get something out. I don’t even know what it is, so I am just going to wing it. See you at the end.

It was a rough day. Most days are rough, but today hit harder. I have been pretty cagey on my ‘story’ in a lot of posts, so for my own mental health I am going to avoid that and try and be a bit more authentic here today.

I have reached a point in my life where I prefer weekdays to weekends. I work a 9-5 job in customer service, and I teach music lessons in the evenings. In a way it reminds me of graduate school where I work from when I wake up to when I go to bed. I work really hard, not because I am a workaholic or anything, but because I need to keep my mind occupied. I wouldn’t be able to admit that to myself until the last year or so, but I know that I’m afraid to be alone with my thoughts. I don’t want to focus on depression because it’s, well, depressing, but I do want to yell into the void that is the internet some of the thoughts I work so hard to distract myself from.

My last student of the day on Mondays is one of my favorite lessons to teach, not just because of the lesson aspect, but because I go to their house and they have one of the most warm and loving families I have ever been around. The parents love to sit in on the lesson and we always end up talking for like twenty minutes after. Today was really tough though. My student is a freshman in high school and a few weeks ago her older brother passed away. He was there for a lot lessons, and like the rest of the family, was exceptionally warm and kind. I was informed the day he passed, and we obviously called off lessons for a few weeks. I’ve been heartbroken for them. To me he was a kind acquaintance I had known for a couple of months, but to them he was…everything. I knew going in today that things would be different. I was incredibly proud of my student because I can tell she is being strong beyond her years. We had a good lesson and on my way out I had a little chat with her mom.

I can’t come up with adequate words to describe the conversation. This is the second time in a year I have been face to face with a mother who recently lost their child. The first time was at my previous job last year when a customer just blurted it out to me. I will never know the pain a parent, especially a mother, goes through when they lose a child. I know there is nothing I or anyone else could ever say or do to take away an ounce of that pain. The only thing I could do is offer an ear and a hug. In both cases I know I will never forget the conversation. I will never forget looking into their eyes and what I saw. I’m going to leave it there, there’s nothing else I can or should say.

This might get a bit emotional, so if you’re still with me, buckle up…

The thought that won’t leave my head after our interaction is, would my mom feel like that? We haven’t spoken in a couple years and I don’t think she will ever speak to me again. There were many factors that lead to my estrangement, but our relationship really started to break down after I came out. She had a very hard time with it, something I had expected. I imagine that isn’t easy for a mother either. What I didn’t expect was for her to grow this resentment toward me for it. I delayed starting my transition for two years to give enough time to talk it through, and help her try and understand it, even a little. In our last conversation she was telling me about how difficult it made her life. How she has to hide it from her friends. The anger that built up in her, and myself all came out at once. That is when I started to question whether her love was conditional or unconditional.

It’s really messing me up today. Even with the mess we made, and her cutting me out of her life, I don’t want her to feel the way the two moms I’ve spoken to felt. If she never spoke to me again I still would not wish that pain on her. I’m sorry to be really dark here, and just to be clear, I’m not planning on going anywhere or harming myself, but I can’t help but wonder. Would she feel like they did? A mother is supposed to love their child unconditionally, and I am not naïve, I get we don’t live in a perfect world and that isn’t always the case. But how could a mother just be ‘done’ with their child?

Okay, that was tough to get through, but I don’t have anyone I can talk to and needed to get it out. I think I am going to end this post here. I do feel a little better after meditating on it here for a bit. Now if you will excuse me, I am going to chase my cat down and annoy her with love.

Thank you for listening.


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