Memento Mori: December 2023
My birth month has come and gone. Entering December came a little faster than I wanted.
I turned 44 years old last month and it doesn’t feel any different than 43 but that’s life. I’ve only had a few birthdays when something felt significantly different. I owe those to major life changes that happened within the prior year. I will say something that happened in the last year that feels different is acknowledgement from a couple of people that felt more genuine than I’ve ever felt in my life. Sometimes people say things because they think they’re supposed to and I can feel that obligatory energy. It’s not even difficult to describe because it’s very different from someone specifically stating things in detail that let you know they SEE you.
For instance, I have friends who tell me that I am a good mother but… WHY are YOU saying I’m a good mother? Because of the obvious? I make sure Bug is fed, clothed, educated, and loved. That’s legit basic low level parenting shit. Not to downplay it but I’m supposed to do that regardless of what life throws at me. However, when someone says something detail oriented that indicates they have been closely paying attention to what I do as a mother/parent? It’s hella different.
A close friend recently acknowledged some heavy life shit that I have been dealing with alone. They apologized for not being as present of a friend in the last few years of me dealing with getting divorced, losing a parent, moving across country, raising a child with no familial support (solidarity), having a major surgery, finishing up my bachelors degree, and having chronic illnesses. Even typing that out was a bit exhausting. I must be honest and say I haven’t processed my father’s death or this stupid, fucking divorce that took far too long to be over and done with. I haven’t processed a lot of the 44 years I’ve lived that involve traumatic ass shit because I haven’t had the space to just fucking fall to pieces.
I don’t advise anyone to suppress heavy shit. It’s so fucking draining and little bits of your unprocessed shit will either start randomly leaking out or you’ll full blown bleed all over anyone who gets close to you. We can have the attitude that we don’t have time to sit and work through shit because we gotta pay these bills, feed these children, and keep one foot in front of the other. We’re only fooling ourselves into putting off the inevitable breakdown that’s coming. This Memento Mori reminds me to fully live the rest of my life as I wind down to the eternal nap and in doing that, I have to acknowledge all of the life that I’m refusing to process. With that being said, I’m going to be open to more moments of tears, talking about how I feel, and asking (fuck that, begging) the universe to align me with people who don’t act like they’re allergic to feeling and having all the emotions.
I also watched Indiana Jones: Dial of Destiny and cried at the end. My dad loved Indiana Jones but also when Indy’s goddaughter “selfishly” told him he couldn’t stay in 215 B.C. before punching him in the jaw? Seeing her moment of vulnerability that was saying Indy you can’t stay here because I NEED YOU, is what made me cry. Indy was being a crotchety old fuck, acting like he didn’t need or care about anyone but he just needed a reminder that HE was cared about too.
And that’s also what I need in December… to be FULLY reminded (see: SHOW ME) by more people that I’m cared about because I don’t feel it most days… and it could just be these stupid as fuck perimenopausal hormones but I got a good 40-50 years left in me. I can afford to keep saying I want to be cared about until the very end.
It’s true that we cannot solve our problems with the same tools that created them so I have to clean out my emotional tool box. All of the sensitive parts of me might feel like foil on fillings but eventually those silver bitches get replaced with something healthier and more sustainable. Eventually, I won’t cringe at all of the things that once triggered me because I’ll learn how to manage all the emotions I steered clear of for so long. So December, give me your best shot at making me feel.
