Disconnected

~violetsoup

Not really sure why I chose this place of all places to write about such a personal thing. Maybe it's the sense of anonymity I have? I know nobody here, and nobody here knows me, and there's a sort of comfort to be found in that. Either way. I will get my ramblings out while I can.

A college student I am, living at home again after a few months away in halls, on account of the horrendous student accomodation rent prices in the area. Living with my mother, father, and younger sister, in a 2-bedroom apartment not too far from the city center. Close with all of them, and happy to know them so well, but I feel lately as though one of them is shutting the rest of us out.

My mother.

My invalid mother, house-bound by some illness that is yet to be diagnosed. She fell ill in early June, and from there, a lot of strain was put on the family. How shall we organise meals, how shall we keep the apartment in shape, who shall run errands, that sort of thing. Mother can still cook from time to time, and do light chores, but it takes much energy out of her, and my father has often confided in me about the frustrations surrounding the situation. How, at the beginning of her illness, Mother would spend all day on the Internet, researching her symptoms obsessively, coming up with multiple potential diseases. Multiple sclerosis, or long Covid, or chronic fatigue, or a light stroke. How their love life (something I do NOT need to hear about in detail) has deteriorated, how he sometimes wishes to live in a house of his own. How he wishes that Mother would make an effort to go outside the house from time to time and get some fresh air, it would do her good, after all.

Mother spends all day in her bed, on her computer, on her smartphone. On social media, on Twitter, or the ten billion other new ripoffs that surfaced after Elon Musk's whole thing. She has found a community of people from all across the globe, and they talk about all kinds of things. Of trains, of the 'otomatone' (some sort of electronic instrument she bought a month or so ago), of books and TV shows, and most of all, of sickness. Mother has found a small group of people who are also house-bound with some sort of illness, diagnosed or undiagnosed, and they talk daily about their lives.

Father doesn't like this. He says that as wonderful it is that Mother has found friends to talk with and pass the time, he feels as though she is shutting the rest of us out. And I am inclined to agree.

I see the signs of my parents' relationship fading. At dinner, when Mother talks about something that happened on-line with her friends (all she seems to talk about these days), and Father's face becomes twisted into some barely-concealed frown. A frown of disapproval, or annoyance, or something else, I don't know for sure. But we exchange glances at each other across the dining table, and it's like an unspoken "I miss your mother".

I woke up earlier this morning and said hello to my mother, and she was talking with her friends. I tried to start conversation flowing, but she was not very responsive. She was whispering into the microphone of her smartphone, using text-to-speech to write a message on Twitter. I feel like a technophobic old man. But I just wanted to have a conversation. It didn't have to be a deep one, just a small conversation on anything other than something her friends on the Internet have been saying. It feels like I'm talking to a chronically online teenager half of the time, whenever Mother talks about how she was blocked by so-and-so, and how she had an argument with a stranger that drove her near to tears. She is 54 and yet, her on-line activity seems not far off from that of a 14 year old of this day and age.

I don't know if I feel resentful towards her. She still loves me and I know that, of course. She pets my head every night before she goes to bed, and I hug her, and we read books together on those rare occasions. She is still my mother, and despite the fact that I've been a legal adult for a while now, I feel as though I'm losing how she once was, and there's a bigger gap between us than ever before. From the outside, it might look as though I am much closer to Father, when he takes me out into town to visit guitar shops, when I buy him a pint at the local pub, when we sit and watch Doctor Who together, when we talk about recipes with each other. But if I am honest, I know that I am a mother's girl most of all.

When they eventually grow old and pass away, I will miss my mother more than my father. I worry for her health and safety more than my fathers', regardless if she's sick or not. So why do I feel so disconnected?