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I posted this yesterday at a moment when I’d kind of reached a really frustrating place, but I’m kind of overcome by how lovely people were in responding. So many people reached out in comments to offer validation and a shoulder to cry on and a place to vent and there were people who were in even worse situations who were reaching out and comforting me.
I’m tearing up again but because people are so good.
I posted this yesterday at a moment when I’d kind of reached a really frustrating place, but I’m kind of overcome by how lovely people were in responding. So many people reached out in comments to offer validation and a shoulder to cry on and a place to vent and there were people who were in even worse situations who were reaching out and comforting me.
I’m tearing up again but because people are so good.
I posted this yesterday at a moment when I’d kind of reached a really frustrating place, but I’m kind of overcome by how lovely people were in responding. So many people reached out in comments to offer validation and a shoulder to cry on and a place to vent and there were people who were in even worse situations who were reaching out and comforting me.
I’m tearing up again but because people are so good.
I’ve been crying silently and trying to gulp down sobs for most of today. My homophobic mom has been staying with me for a few months now and I can’t let her know how affected I am by this.
I’ve had a lot of moments like this recently, actually, because of all the onscreen fictional f/f deaths, because like I’ve said, I’ve come to terms with being a lesbian, but I’m deeply closeted and will remain so, probably for the rest of my life, and I know it’s just TV but it’s all I had. The attitude behind it is too real. And I’m so sad and resentful that I’ve had to lock this down, that I can’t just tell her why I’m upset, and I’m so angry at her, because it’s not fair, but what can either of us do? A few weeks back I just broke down sobbing in front of her and she was so worried and asking me why, again and again, “if you can’t tell your mother, who can you tell?” and it’s so suffocating and I feel so guilty because what if I’m underestimating her, but the cost of being wrong there is just so high.
But I’m so full of anger and grief and guilt, that I’m conflating so much of this in my head, that these are real deaths and it’s not right to link them with fiction, that it was done by a Muslim, that again I’m so upset with my mother. But I’m sorry, I’m sorry, this isn’t about me, I’m sorry.
I’ve been crying silently and trying to gulp down sobs for most of today. My homophobic mom has been staying with me for a few months now and I can’t let her know how affected I am by this.
I’ve had a lot of moments like this recently, actually, because of all the onscreen fictional f/f deaths, because like I’ve said, I’ve come to terms with being a lesbian, but I’m deeply closeted and will remain so, probably for the rest of my life, and I know it’s just TV but it’s all I had. The attitude behind it is too real. And I’m so sad and resentful that I’ve had to lock this down, that I can’t just tell her why I’m upset, and I’m so angry at her, because it’s not fair, but what can either of us do? A few weeks back I just broke down sobbing in front of her and she was so worried and asking me why, again and again, “if you can’t tell your mother, who can you tell?” and it’s so suffocating and I feel so guilty because what if I’m underestimating her, but the cost of being wrong there is just so high.
But I’m so full of anger and grief and guilt, that I’m conflating so much of this in my head, that these are real deaths and it’s not right to link them with fiction, that it was done by a Muslim, that again I’m so upset with my mother. But I’m sorry, I’m sorry, this isn’t about me, I’m sorry.