Tuesday, 01.22.2013 - 10:02 am.
I turned 28 on saturday. I'm sure somewhere around this diary there's the wish of my teenage self to die at 27, but I'm glad that didn't happen. I got a lot of birthday wishes, Andrew made me pancakes for breakfast, took me out to have sushi for lunch, and at night we met up with friends at a bar. My first birthday celebrated in a bar. Who would've thought.
I'm doing pretty good in general, but at the moment, I'm stuck. I'm owed some documents that I need to submit for my permanent residence application, and others I have to present to the scholarship agency to close the scholarship file. I'm pushing for those documents and still no answer. Also, Andrew and I are traveling to my country next week. I'm jaded about that, I feel I have these previous tasks to worry about right now.
But it does worry me that I have no place to stay at my own home country. My parents hoped Andrew would stay at a hotel and I would stay at home but I'm not leaving him alone. They hated that (the whole "she's not married" thing, I guess) but I appreciate that they didn't insist. I have some hotels in sight but my aunt rents apartments and I was hoping she'd rent me one. She hasn't replied, she says she still isn't sure there's availability for the time of my stay. So I guess I should start contacting the hotels, just in case.
I've been dreaming with Andrew and my family every night for the past week. Nothing bad, but I suppose it's my anxiety about the trip coming out quietly. My siblings support me so much. But my parents, I'm dissapointed and hurt by their ambiguity, that I've been told about and I've seen for myself.
I suppose they hoped and wanted me to come back home after finishing my master's, but also wanted me single. They've always said children have to leave the nest but they suck at dealing with it. I resent a lot of things about this but the way they are, my dad especially, I'd gain nothing from talking about this. He'd feel attacked, the victim, the bad guy, with all fingers of the world pointing at him for being the worst dad ever. So then I'm the bad guy, for telling him something like, say, I've seen you frown more than smile when I tell you important things about my life that are non-academical. You feel worried that things will go wrong instead of feeling joy for what has happened.
And stuff.
I don't want to talk about this anymore, I try not to think about this much because I know there's no way to fix these things. I can only go, introduce Andrew to them, stop by the house everyday and be there for them when the results from the chemo return. I'm worn out by my parents reactions to my life decisions, so much that I don't even care about that much about the cancer anymore. I'm convinced their inability to deal with negative emotions and the sense of loss from the empty nest had a role in its onset (it's not the cause per se)...and the illness itself makes these negative emotions even worse. They're not gonna listen to anybody on how to change some things for better coping so I can only hope they'll learn on their own. Fast.
On top of all this, I haven't seen Andrew much. He was a sweetheart during my birthday but he's had like two weeks to write his entire thesis and is rushing to have it done by friday. He locks up in the studio or the bedroom the entire afternoon and at night, only coming out for a stretch, a snack, a shower or a short break. Last night he stayed up until 5 am this morning, but I think he's nearly done. I miss seeing him more relaxed but we will be once we're at my home. We're going there on vacation, after all.
So all these things have me feeling stuck and desperate and a little angry. I let those emotions be but I know this is temporary. I also have to move to get things done. I can't just say my arms are tied, even if it feels that way.
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