My Thoughts on a Warm Wednesday Evening

I was hoping today, after a tired day, you would help me prepare for my mother's birthday surprise. A candle would've sufficed. Instead, you watched TV, loudly, looked disinterested and then reprimanded me for sharing my feelings.

I am angry that even after 15 months of knowing the truth about a friend cheating on his future missus, I am still angry. Yes, I'm angry that I'm angry. I'm angry that instead of confronting him, I went quiet. I know he knows, because he went quiet, too. I want so bad to tell her to stop marrying this guy, but I am scared. I keep quiet because people stop telling me to "be Mother Theresa".

But then if I'm not the Mother Theresa in my life, who will pick up after everything? Who will be the troubleshooter? Who will remember everything everyone likes to eat? Who will remember everyone's doctor appointments? Who will ensure all the fridges are stocked up with groceries? Who will make sure the electricity bill is paid, the conversations flow, things are done?

Not you. Not you. Nor you. None of you.

I pick up after your slack.

And even now I have to pick up after the person who is PAID to help out in our domestic situation. I have to make my own dinner because she needs to rest, even though I've been out of the house for 12 hours, driving, lifting, while she rested the entire time because no one was home. She deserves rest, sure. But don't I deserve anything? Do I have to pick up after her now also? Should I also get paid to do everything I do then?

And then when I voice out I am told that I'm selfish, that "it's all about my feelings", that I don't understand how it is to be in other people's shoes nor do I understand how my actions impact others.

Wow.

Okay.

I pray sometimes that death takes me sooner. Not because I'm ungrateful, but because I'm just so tired. No sleep can do justice to the dread and exhaustion that my privileged soul carries. I do everything for everyone and still try to remember to recycle, not use too much plastic, not leave the lights on for too long, Earth Hour timings, and all of that.

If that makes me selfish, then I serve no purpose on Earth.

The view from the fourth floor - looks tempting.

But I will not jump. Because there are people who remind me that God will not give me tests I will fail in. That I have people who love me. That I am cared for.

However, when I'm reminded time and time again of my place in society, I realise I don't want to be part of society. I want to do away with social media, my phone. I want to backpack and travel (although my age may not allow me to carry a big load). I want to read. I want to be alone.

The Covid-19 lockdown was horrible, trecherous for many. But I miss how it was okay to be an introvert. How it was okay to coop up inside your room instead of facing the world. I treasured the little social activities I had with other human beings more than I do now.

Now I just want to run as far away as I can from all this. But I am duty bound. I was once told that I'm like a loyal cow/dog, always roaming around the streets of the cities, but then always remembering to come home.

I have three places I call home. I am confused where to go to. Maybe I need to create a real home. My own home.

Ah, my thoughts. You will truly kill me one day.

Bless us overthinkers.