I have always been indecisive. Not sure what I want, where I want to live, and what I want to do. It’s been that way for as long as I can remember. I was indecisive as a child because my mom refused to let me be independent while my dad encouraged it. My mother was convinced that I had to be the best/brightest at whatever I was doing in order to bother to do it at all. It used to drive her insane in high school when I actively was involved with the band. I refused to bring my trumpet (that I chose over getting a cheap car mind you) home to practice. I didn’t want her to constantly tell me what I was doing wrong, despite her never playing an instrument in her life. I had quit playing organ years earlier for the same reason. She had the unrealistic desire for a 4-6-year-old to play perfect the first time they played anything too.
Twelve years ago, I got married to someone I knew for 3 months. We went from dating to married in that short time. I don’t regret it, but I don’t recommend it either. We were happy for the first 6 or so of our 12-year marriage. After that, our differences started becoming too much and we mutually decided to end things last year. Where’s the indecision, you might be asking? Well, when you can’t decide for 6 years if you want to be married to someone or not it takes its toll. When we finally parted (officially earlier this year), it was on mostly okay terms. Not the best of friends but not bitter enemies either.
There’s been more indecision and upheaval throughout my life. From bouncing around and moving the last year and a half, and the instability that brought, to dealing with being the “adult” at 19 just after my dad died. My mom played the grieving widow part well, but it was me who sat with my dad at his chemo appointments, and me who took him to radiation before he passed away. It was me who made some of the hard decisions after he died. I was the one who couldn’t say goodbye the night he was moved to hospice. I was also taking her to work and working some at the same time too. But then I had to listen to her go on about she just did so much for him… It killed the last part of love I had for her. Which has made me indecisive on how I feel about her and taking care of her as she gets older. I do it now, out of obligation and guilt. Guilt because I promised my dad I’d do everything I could to help her out. Now no one expects a 19-year-old to follow that, but I have tried my best to. And now with me at 33, she needs help. I give what I can, but if she doesn’t want to take care of herself, who the hell am I to force that? And I feel torn about it, because well she is my mom and the only family I really have left. At the same time, where was the mom I needed when my world kept crashing down? Why do I have to be there for her now? I know I don’t owe her anything. I just do it for my own peace of mind and so that the guilt won’t completely eat me alive.
Where does that leave me now? Still undecided in a lot of things but I know a few things. I want to finish my degree in Psychology so I can help people. I hope it’s sometime in the next few years but no one really knows what the future has in store. I want to find the happiness that I’ve lost out on and had previously given up finding. I want to be the person I could have been 10 years ago if life hadn’t decided to dump all those things on someone who wasn’t wholly prepared or even a little prepared. But at least I have things I want to accomplish and want to strive to be now. That’s more things decided than what I had yesterday. And maybe tomorrow, I can finally decide what some of my favorite things are.
The goodness and kindness we can show to others is what keeps me from getting stuck on all the bad that has happened in my own life. We can each be that force of good- if we just get out of our own heads from time to time.