Rarely do I verbally express the emotional tempests that occasionally (in this case lately) rage inside. I\ have a handful of close friends whom I confide in, but unfortunately my prideful and independent nature wants to muddle through until I'm almost drowning in a glass full of thoughts and feelings. That's when I talk.
Lately I've been sailing the sea of uncertainty and fighting waves of self-doubt, anxiety, mistrust, and pseudo-unemployment. I had already talked to two friends but continued to feel angst with no proverbial land in sight.
That's when I decided to use a never-failing life-saver: I called my mama.
We began with usual chit-chat. Weather, sister's basketball game (she made a shot, yeah!), family. Topics got deeper thereafter- I was not content, had a tendency to over-think (which sometimes had physical side-effects), still held a particular grudge. Unsurprisingly she "prescribed" God, prayer and the Good Book. Inside I groaned but knew she was right. God and I have become acquaintances.
The comforting thing is she listened to my cracking voice and convoluted explanations. She even understood and admitted she sometimes experiences what I go through. And, despite the state I am in, I am still her hijita.
I don't have concrete or easy answers, but at the moment that's OK. I talked to my mama.
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