PHX-PHL
There is a disturbing voice of discontent inside my head. Flying home now after almost a week away. First it began with a stressful exam, then several days on the road. The Grand Canyon was inspiring, majestic and so amazingly beautiful, and I had many hours of bicycling which always does wonders for my body and mind.
But the chatter, the discontents and frustrations are returning. Back to my life in Montreal, back to the people I do not really wish to see, because seeing them I must make small talk and work so hard to avoid talking about my feelings-- something they rather would not want to hear, something they pretend to act as if is already long buried and over and done with.
Is it Mother's Day that's causing me to feel so upset and discontented? Is it the message from someone wishing me happy Mother's Day when they fully know I don't have a mother any more? Or is it seeing a daughter take her mother by the hand and walking with her along a trail by the Grand Canyon that made me so emotional and fatigued?
I thought going away would help me clear my mind, I imagined some sun ( maybe a bit too much, as my arm got sunburnt...) would help me heal a little bit, but for some reason I'm feeling much worse... Much worse. To top it off, I seem to have lost a stuffed monkey who has been my traveling companion for the last four, almost five, years, who was there throughout the difficult and happy times with mum.
I can't describe it. Somehow, my mind just wandered back to a year ago. my mum lay there slowly dying. how painful that was to watch, how painful that was to bear. And in the midst of it all, my ex was there on the side giving me false hopes and expectations, playing with my feelings and my life even, as he wrestled with his own relationship woes and indecisiveness. My mum dying, an yet I had to keep myself together, I kept myself together by allowing myself to believe someone is waiting for me, is going to help me get through this all. I kept myself from crying because I told mum not to worry, because someone would be there for me. But where is that person? Who is that person?
A year later, mum is gone. A year later, the person I shared such a solid and trusting friendship and hopes of a lasting relationship with has somehow become a distant acquaintance (it feels like...). And he does not seem to see it, he does not seem to see how things have affected me so and continues to haunt and hurt me still. I have no relationship of significance now, no one I truly feel comfortable talking to, no one I truly feel I can trust and I can really tell everything to... Look at me, sad, sad me lamenting my life and still discontented after so many days out in nature. Ungrateful, unappreciative little sod I am...
Standing there on the edge of the canyon at various instances in the last few days, this urge came to me. To want to jump... To want to plummet to my death, to experience those few moments of flying through the air before everything ends... What has gotten into me? How did I become so wary of life, how did I lose the spark of life and joy I had and took for granted? How have I become or allowed myself to be so dark?
I am hurting deep down inside...
I miss mum deeply, sorely... And what a painful week this has been with mum's birthday and Mother's Day so close to one another. I truly am struggling...
I miss having affection, being hugged and comforted, I miss so much having someone close and intimate whom I could confide in, who would listen, just listen to me and try to understand, and just recognise how deep I have sunk, and how.
Forty minutes or so till landing. In fact I just felt the plane adjust downward a little. The day is brightening, a day beginning.
It has been a horrible flight, worse in recent memory. Since I left the arid environment of the Grand Canyon, I've been feeling so parched. It didn't help that on te one and a half hour shuttle bus ride from the canyon to Flagstaff airport, at the behest of an elderly couple, the air con was switched completely off. The air was stuffy and heat unbearable. And my throat feels so dry, so irritated.
Flying doesn't cure dryness. And I'm so afraid of drinking too much because of the need to go to the washroom. In fact, I've had to go twice writhing four hours, which is bothersome since the cramped, terribly cramped seats means the two people next must get up in order for me to get out (as always I have the window seat). And I don't know what's wrong with me, but the past few days I've been extremely gassy and feeling very bloated for some reason...
Flying seems to have, at least on this flight, lost its novelty. I can't wait to get out of the plane, to get off and stretch. But there's another flight to go, and I'm so exhausted from being unable to sleep. I can't wait to collapse in my bed. And in the emotional state of mind I am in, I may even just cry when I get home and lie down in my own bed...
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