Monday, April 15, 2013

Drama Queen


I inherited it from my mother. I would glance down at my vibrating phone and roll my eyes at the "MOM" flashing on the screen for the tenth time in the span of like fifteen minutes. "Sweetie? How are you? how's the party going? are you okay?" and I would wonder, as opposed to the last time we talked? "Yes mom I have taken two steps, blinked a few times, and took several breaths since we last spoke, I am, surprisingly, still fine."

It didn't make sense to me, I didn't believe she was actually worried for my safety. What could happen? Whether I was at the mall or at the movies or at a friend's house. Even when the time came and I went to clubs (ha yeah I'm cool) I'd be on the phone with my mom. "HEEEEY! yeaaaaaah I can't hear youuuuu mommmm I'm drunk!! this is greattttt i LOVE YOU! come dance with me!" and she would be up waiting for me to get home. She wasn't a strict parent and I was for the most part a good kid. I came home by her reasonable curfew and if I wasn't going to make it I'd let her know. 

She wasn't waiting up to chastise me. She was waiting because she feared every single minute that something could happen to me. And I just laughed at her and called her dramatic. But lately, I understand her a little more. There have been a few events happening around me and people I love that have made me seriously anxious. 

The threat of a coup d'etat in Venezuela made me cry harder than I had in a long time. It's not even happening yet and my mind could only think about all my family, about militias and angry chaviztas shooting at them. I became hysterical. This time it was my mom who calmed me down. It's like she had this little mom sense and knew she had to call. "Breathe, calm down, you don't have to worry yet," she said.

And I couldn't really believe it. I felt the fear making knots in my stomach, of something that wasn't even happening. Of something that was only a slight possibility. And then I felt dumb. 

Then Boston Marathon bombs. My first thought were my best friends. Of course I would think they decided to go watch the marathon, even though reasonably I knew they were probably asleep. But it was that fear again, something similar to what my mom would feel and I don't think most people actually get it, until they feel it. "What could happen?" But the thing is once you realize something can happen, there is no going back from that realization, and yes I freak the fuck out.

Maybe it's an over reaction, but to me it doesn't feel that way. I have to talk to my best friends and make sure they are completely fine. I need to call them hear their voices and come home as fast as I can, because in my mind they were in danger and now they're safe. 

I think it might be because I am maturing (or am I immaturing?) or is it because I actually care now? I'd like to think I always cared, but didn't see danger where there was. Whatever it is. I get it.

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