i’m trying to keep it simple.
this past weekend i saw/talked to my grandma for the first time (on video chat, but okay) in 2 and a half years. the circumstances that helped this are as follows: i’d been pestering my parents for months to buy a normal/functional computer, and they finally did. before this, we were typing-chatting. also. my grandma is at my parents’ now because she had a sort of stroke so they had to take her out of the village and into hospital etc. now she’s out of hospital but still very weak, and i’m afraid she doesn’t even believe she will be able to get back to her home in her lifetime (yes, i am assuming and appropriating her worry. this is the way my own worrying works.)
i honestly don’t know how to talk about it. i start sometimes if prompted, then it’s painful and i cry and my head hurts then i end up talking about the other bad-things-in-my-life, just because. so it’s not a conversation i would choose to have. because yes i can say how i think i feel about it, but my problem keeps being that it’s not my life i’m talking about. iam…
…to take it from the top: i have chosen to live someplace else. so i don’t really exactly belong to any grief or pain or, you know, real caretaking that is going on in that apartment. it is to some extent my problem, and on the other hand it isn’t. since i don’t want to return to romania (well i do, but not to the point where i leave here and i’m not allowed by law to return), that’s it. what i can do from here is look pretty in front of a screen for a couple hours a week. mission easily accomplished. go on.
i find myself thinking of various coping mechanisms. i.e. ‘what to do now’ because it seems like i have to do something. i was outraged at myself when dieting popped to mind, almost automatically. it’s spring, i can try a cleansing etc. diet. that was what i used to do: short term i was pretty good at it. i mean it’s a common sense thought, no?
a friend of mine way back used to say that when he was feeling bad (physically or of any kind of bad) he would visualize an armchair, and him just sitting down in it and waiting for it to go away. „if i wait enough, it will go away”. another male friend’s idea of happiness was an open window at night and a tall glass of water. when i think of these people and our conversations, and try to extract the positivity out of that, mostly what comes to my mind is that i’m old.
i sat on my sofa this morning, with a mug of water at hand. does it make a difference that it’s a sofa not an armchair, a mug not a glass? morning not night? of course it does. north america not eastern europe, a 31 y.o. girl instead of a teenager? i want new tricks. more than anything i want belief.
i thought about traveling. i don’t want to travel alone anymore. about writing. i don’t feel like i’m able to write at the moment, never mind that my focus isn’t present. about relaxing, entertaining activities. but it takes (! all it takes is!) that frame of mind where a spark of optimism is embedded. i mean i can find reasons to refuse to do anything but sit here and cry my eyes out.
it’s sunny. the weather site says it’s just a bit below zero. i just bought myself a new green-ish spring dress and a pair of cherry-red (shiny) rubber boots. and i’ll soon move to get groceries and maybe take a walk in parc laurier. i’m very tired of being in my life, that is all.