I am leaving, I am leaving
But the fighter still remains . . .
-Paul Simon, "The Boxer"
I'm trying to push myself out of this 'funk' I've been in (for lack of a better word) only to realize that the the support system that I've come to depend on is very far away indeed. Yes, there are phones and IMs and such, but it's not the same as being able to go over and have Jake hold me for a while or to go crash at Annie's and watch Grey's to zone out and relax.
My mother is what you'd call "overbearing." Very in your business, wants to have questions answered, expects a lot. It's all very exhausting for the introvert that I am, who processes things internally, who needs to be left alone to decompress at the end of the day and who would rather speak on my own terms than be peppered with, "How was your day?" "What did you do for lunch?" "How's Jake?"
It's frustrating knowing that this is what she does because she cares, etc., especially since ignoring questions or not following up with more detail only seems to be the lure for her to ask more.
True to my personality typology, I nearly went ballistic tonight because the house was "too noisy." TVs on, people shouting from one room to the other, yelling and cheering as we watched the end of the Oscars . . . It was little too much for me to process. I took Hunter for a walk around the block just to go outside where it was quiet and be able to be away from the noise for a little bit. It's that "sensate" nature that I really love sometimes (in very specific ways), but also pushes me to my breaking point a lot.
Realizing this about myself, learning to be more in tune with myself and my needs, is only going to help in the long run . . . but it doesn't make the short run suck any less.