Mother told me today that she wants to get rid of our dog Mira, because she can’t live with her anymore. She want’s to get rid of the dog that my father wanted to have, he choose her, he raised her in her first months, she was a part of our family for almost a year, we fed her, we stroked her, we raised her. Mother declared today that despite all this she wants to make her disappear or whatever, just because she had enough of her. Mira is already very big, and she is a little difficult to handle sometimes, because she is young and playful and not very obedient at times. Otherwise she is absolutely okay, she only needs a little more attention, guidance and dominance.
Things were going so well with mother in the last few days or weeks. And just as usual, as I start to feel positive and optimistic about her and about our relationship, she does something that makes me feel disappointed, angry, and disgusted. Besides that, this situation gives me serious duties and burdens for the next few months, because it will be me (who else) who will have to handle and solve this, in the absence of my brother, who is going to work on a ship for the next 4 months. I get all this, when I started to feel a little relieved, a little stronger, a little more alive. After a few days at work, when I didn’t go to work shaking with anxiety. Then I get this rock-hard, several-months-long, emotionally exhausting “project”. I feel again, that someone else disposes over my time, my energy, and my life!
I am terrified of any kind of change. Every change makes me tense, everything that is new, unknown, or uncertain. I’ve lost all my openness and flexibility. I am sitting at a bar with my friends. I am feeling good, I am calm and relaxed. We are talking, eating, and drinking. Then we stand up to go to the next bar, and I feel tension and anxiety occupying my body. Because I don’t know what is waiting for me in the next place. We are walking past different places. One is scarier than the other, I don’t really know why. We finally enter one, and take our seats. I am afraid of everything. It is terrible. We order some drinks. We drink, a few minutes pass, and I calm down again. There is nothing to be afraid of.
In the last year, during my father’s illness I learned that every change is a bad one. Change brings more trouble. I wanted to extend his life as long as possible, unchanged, frozen in time, without further deterioration of his health. But I couldn’t do it, it wasn’t possible. Whenever the phone rang, I knew it was some bad news again…