Yesterday was a really really really bad day. I had a couple mild mental breakdowns, and then I had a HUGE breakdown. I really wanted to lean on someone and tell all my worries and struggles. I decided to call my mom because I tell my mom everything about school/academics. I wanted to verbally tell someone about my problems rather than cry out to God. Big mistake.
My mom is similiar to me. She’s a huge pessimist and I am also. I don’t think pessimists understand each other because eventually they piss each other off. My mom and I can only get along for awhile and then after a certain point we piss each other off, make each other angry, and then hurt each other in the end. We always end in a fight. I thought our relationship got better after I went to college just because I don’t see/talk to her on a daily basis. I hated the idea of home because seriously my “home” was a hellhole. I hated it. When I went back home for winter break, I loved the idea of going back to Chicago, a familiar place, compared to Syracuse. I wasn’t really excited to go back to the hellhole though. During winter break though, my mom and I got along. I tried a lot to not piss each other off. Yesterday, though, we just exploded at each other. Thus I had a mental breakdown because I was having problems already to begin with. I broke down in my room when my roommate was there. (seriously so embarrassing because I hate showing tears in front of others). Yes, I know I’m prideful and I know I’m a perfectionist. I have extremely high standards, so I am never satisfied with myself, thus always leading to mental breakdowns. I know I’m sinful and I need to break down in front of Jesus, asking him to heal me. That’s my constant struggle, spiritually.
Anyways, I’m so stressed as it is and I just wanted someone to listen to me and not to bash at me. I have an extremely weak heart even though I act like I’m strong. I had 2 more days before going home. After that fight, I didn’t want to go home to the hellhole. I got reminded of that hellhole again.
Today I called my dad. I don’t talk to my dad that much just because we have this language barrier (although I have a language barrier with my mom, we communicate with each other better, but obviously there’s still a lot of misunderstandings, which lead to fights). I know my dad loves me a lot. No matter how bad I am, or how mean I am, he always understands. He never yells at me (actually not never; sometimes he bursts and that’s when I go really emo). Overall, my dad would do anything for me. He’s always the mediator for my mom and I. He is always in the middle breaking up our fights, comforting me. He knew that we ended in a big fight yesterday, so today he, being a huge optimist, comforted me and gave me advice (unlike my mom).
My dad is a hopeful person. I get sad when I see him like that though. My dad is not a Christian. He’s atheist/agnostic. He doesn’t like Christians because he claims that all of them are hypocrites. I understand where he is coming from. He is not against me being a Christian though. He thinks it’s better for me to go to church rather than partying and getting messed up. However, he doesn’t fully trust the church. I get sad that my dad has never experienced the love of God. My dad has so much hope, but I wonder where that hope comes from. I wish I can talk to him about Jesus, but yet again there is this language barrier. He doesn’t want to listen either.
I’ve always wanted to be from a Christian home. My family is not Christian, really. As a first generation Christian in my home, it’s very hard. I don’t get spiritual advice. I get “worldly yet hopeful” comfort from my dad and not so much anything from my mom (or maybe I’m still being bitter). I have so much burden that it made me become a perfectionist. I can never really relax or be spontaneous. If I do, I screw up (I am so screwed right now, but I’m probably being too hard on myself again).
I don’t know where my thoughts are leading right now and I probably made no sense whatsoever. I want to put this entry on private because I feel like I’m revealing way too much about me (If you didn’t already know, I like to bury my thoughts so that no one knows my weaknesses, but this blog is allowing me to write whatever).
Anyways, I need a lot of prayer. My family needs a lot of prayers.