A Journal Entry
Each night, just as I am drifting off to sleep, I am jarred awake. My chest tightens with the air of my gasp trapped inside and my heart feels as it is struggling to pump thy blood.
I become paralyzed by the fear resulting from the realization that I may never again live nearby by mother and brother. As the anxiety subsides, I am forced to consciously recognize this fact. I undergo a self-scrutiny much like holding a mirror up to my face.
A hurricane of questions swirls round and round:
Who am I? What have I become? Where am I going? When will my Mom die?
I become paralyzed by the fear resulting from the realization that I may never again live nearby by mother and brother. As the anxiety subsides, I am forced to consciously recognize this fact. I undergo a self-scrutiny much like holding a mirror up to my face.
A hurricane of questions swirls round and round:
Who am I? What have I become? Where am I going? When will my Mom die?
Does my marriage really mean “to death do us part?”
Will I ever connect to my brother, again? Will I remain close to my friends?
Will I be able to maintain a bond with my family at large?
Will I be able to maintain any of my familiar personality traits?
Could I become a mother?
How will I cope with the stress of pregnancy?
What will my life be once I am a mother?
My Mom had to work so hard after my father’s passing when I was 10 years old, so there has always been a wedge shoved between us, prohibiting us from having a very close mother-daughter relationship. I am very independent and have pride in my self-made ways and accomplishments. So why am I struggling to cope with this separation? We are only 10 hours away and my Mom’s retirement schedule will enable her to visit at least four times a year for as long as she can stand to be away from her home.
My out-of-control reactions are frankly quite surprising to me.
I think there are many things at play here. From my father’s traumatic death 20+ years ago, I have learned endearing traits such as avoidance, fear of abandonment and separation anxiety. I also learned to cope by becoming a perfectionist, which is substantiated by persistence and control. The death was so traumatic and taboo, that I never properly mourned and I now fear the inevitable which is my mother’s death. I had turned to the church in order to receive some solace and as a means of gaining closure. A representative of the church, a Catholic Nun, gave me a precious gift of agnosticism by telling me that my father was indeed burning in hell.
I say these things out loud so-to-speak as a means of undergoing the grieving process for the first time. I don not want to wear the badges of trauma and the carry the sorrows of the past. I want to move the surreal to the forefront, grieve it, forgive, release and grow.
My Mom had to work so hard after my father’s passing when I was 10 years old, so there has always been a wedge shoved between us, prohibiting us from having a very close mother-daughter relationship. I am very independent and have pride in my self-made ways and accomplishments. So why am I struggling to cope with this separation? We are only 10 hours away and my Mom’s retirement schedule will enable her to visit at least four times a year for as long as she can stand to be away from her home.
My out-of-control reactions are frankly quite surprising to me.
I think there are many things at play here. From my father’s traumatic death 20+ years ago, I have learned endearing traits such as avoidance, fear of abandonment and separation anxiety. I also learned to cope by becoming a perfectionist, which is substantiated by persistence and control. The death was so traumatic and taboo, that I never properly mourned and I now fear the inevitable which is my mother’s death. I had turned to the church in order to receive some solace and as a means of gaining closure. A representative of the church, a Catholic Nun, gave me a precious gift of agnosticism by telling me that my father was indeed burning in hell.
I say these things out loud so-to-speak as a means of undergoing the grieving process for the first time. I don not want to wear the badges of trauma and the carry the sorrows of the past. I want to move the surreal to the forefront, grieve it, forgive, release and grow.
posted by Baji @ Friday, February 17, 2006
7 comments
7 Comments:
Ohh I can so understand that. Some incidents in your past, specially when you are young leaves such traumatic effect on you that they just don't leave you even when you become adult. I guess prayer and positive thinking is only way to wash away these insecurities.
I think what you are going through is a normal psychological process and impressively you are dealing with it very good.
Writing blog helps. It not only vents, it gives yourself clear understanding of yourself - plus few good co-bloggies friends
Oh baji I wish I could leap through the screen and give you a big big hug. Thanks for trusting us with your deepest thoughts. I'll be marinating on your words and come back with more thoughts I'm sure... I have not been through all that you have, but our worries are very very very similar. Do you thinkabout your mom and her health a lot? I think about that with my parents every single day... it's not good. When you let your thoughts into the world like this you help release your frustration but you reach people like mme who suddenly realize that the secret thoughts that roam their minds are not so unique and strange. It gives me comfort in a strange way that someone through this blogworld that I respect also has the same thoughts as me.
One thing I've been trying for the past few weeks regarding my fear of the future like motherhood, marriage is just saying its up to Allah and leave it in his hands, but actually mean it. I dont know.. i've been struggling to do that for years but at long last its finaly happening. I feel burdens lifting off of me.
As for the past.. we are similar in that I too have haunting memories from my childhood and college years that I'm trying to lick the wounds off. One situation in partiuclar that I totally blocked out of my mind but is now coming back to me and its also doing the same thing to me. Making me think at the oddest times and taking me back. Its painful but i'm trying to face it so I can overcome it.
Reading your post made me long for a friend like you nearby. I'm sure if we lived in the same city we would have so much to talk about.
Posted part of poem from famous urdu poet (Faiz Ahmad Faiz) at my blog after reading your this post.
i had those same fears about motherhood...it's amazing how healing pregnancy can be on the pscyche. Truly.
Aisha, thank you so much for the words of support. I know that I take risks in posting such personal thoughts to the world. I started this blog as a journal and I rust that others might be able to connect to what I say just as I do to their words.
BTW, I have a new gmail account and chat ability if you would like.
It is amazing how memories resurface and take the shape of anxiety and we really have no choice but to confront and conquer.
Lately, I have found much reward in prayer, thanks!
Mystic, I very much enjoyed the poetry. You are so very kind, thanks so much for your support.
Hi Raheel, I have been enjoying your blog.
Wayfarer, rally???? That is so good to know. Thanks.
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