I finally got that break.
It had been over a year since mom passed, my life had turned upside down but for some reason never had I gotten around to sit in my grief and just be in it. I pushed myself to stay put, to keep moving forward, either it was ditching all my plans to stay with my family in Vietnam, finding a job soon after, struggling to adapt, tearing my guts about where my life would be, or moving back to Italy, looking for ways to survive (again), then learning to reintegrate, reconnect. I had never stopped.
I’ve learned that grief lasts a lifetime. There is always a “my mom died” in everything I do, see and feel. Especially during these quiet days, less distractions means that I get to see clearer what is in my head. There are days I am just rotten in bed, paralyzed and can barely feel my own weight. There are days I feel energized, and genuinely excited about all the things I can do. I’ve started to read again while it used to be difficult for me to pick a book because my thoughts were running too fast to absorb anything.
I’ve dreamed about my mom more often. Usually when we dream, we can’t tell if we are dreaming, can we? But for me, I always know (it is just a dream). The fact that my mom died has rooted deeply in my subconscious. I always know. No matter how much I try to hang onto that hug a little bit longer (or forever), the vision spins, then I am awake.
I’m trying to be more patient with myself. After years witnessing series of unexpected unfortunate events, I’ve realized I indeed can’t control anything. I admit I still hold a bit of grudge for what have turned out. I also admit that I’ve developed some controlling complex. But I won’t beat myself for my own feelings and emotions. I’m at a point of my life that I don’t have a lot to give. I am impatient. And I tell people that with full transparency.
I’m learning to take care of my own body. Having been hospitalized due to blood loss and vitamin/iron deficieny was an alarming call. I somatized so much of the stress that it shook my whole body system. I still don’t know what to do besides resting, eating and taking supplements. But I am learning to listen to my body more often, feel where there is stiffness, observe its movements and changes.
So to check in with myself: I am not ready. My mental, my physical and soul are still under maintenance. My mind is turbulent, nostalgic and lost. I miss my people back home. I don’t know what I am doing.
