It’s 3:44 p.m.
I woke up at four this morning. Since it wasn’t even five yet, I lay back down, thinking I could refresh myself a little. Naturally, I couldn’t wake up properly after that. I remember turning off the alarm, but after that, nothing. To make things worse, I argued with my husband. While I was muttering to myself, he jumped in and started questioning why I had gotten up so early in the first place. His tone and words first thing in the morning turned into a full argument. “Why am I so fixated on it?” “Why do I get up so early instead of just staying in bed?” Well, today I overslept—so what happened? My blood pressure fluctuated, my whole morning routine fell apart, and my head feels like it’s spinning.
At least after dancing for eighty-five minutes this morning, I felt a little more like myself. Lately I’ve been dancing for more than an hour, though I’m not even sure whether that’s good or bad. Anyway, after clashing with my husband first thing in the morning, I sent him out of the house. Just leave me alone. I don’t interfere with him staying up until the middle of the night, do I? Yes, I used to, but for a long time now, when I get sleepy, I simply go to bed. They can stay up until morning if they want. No matter how much I talk, there seems to be a whole crowd in front of me that never listens. I’ve stopped upsetting myself over it. Their health is their health, their life is their life. These days, even if it’s your spouse or your child, you can’t hover over them too much. My late grandmothers used to say, “The more you say no, the more they push back.” And honestly, that’s exactly how it is. So dear husband, I don’t interfere with you, and you don’t interfere with me.
After dancing, I washed the coats and the bathroom rugs. Since the weather was nice, I hung them out on the balcony. After breakfast, I watched a few more episodes of The Good Doctor because I’m trying to finish it, but after a while it starts to feel a bit tiring. I need to find myself a new series. I had started watching Bozkır, but apparently not all of the episodes are available online. I watched the trailers to get an idea of it. It seemed like a good series, but it would have been nice if all the episodes were there too.
Last night we sent my son off. God willing, he’ll be back on Saturday night. But honestly, this new generation of kids is really something else. If you tell them to dress warmly, they won’t. If you tell them not to, suddenly they will. Just two days ago it was freezing cold, and he was about to leave wearing only a thin sweatshirt. After a little persuasion, he at least took a cardigan with him. A mother’s heart just can’t help itself. Otherwise you’d say, “Fine, deal with the consequences,” but you still can’t bring yourself to do that.
I’ve been using AI to analyze my meals. Last night, I almost ended up arguing with it. It was acting exactly like a dietitian—telling me I shouldn’t eat this, and if I eat that, this will happen. All I wanted was some peanuts with my tea, but it wouldn’t allow it. Then it even said to me, “I’m the bad cop.” Well, if I eat it, I already know the consequences myself. But what can I do? I really crave it. Because of IBS, I use AI almost like a dietitian to keep myself in check. But I’m human after all, aren’t I? And honestly, nothing has managed to replace my craving for lahmacun. I haven’t eaten it for five months, but I crave it intensely. It feels like if I could just devour a few lahmacuns, I’d come back to life. But I resist those urges and keep going. Hopefully one day I’ll be able to eat lahmacun again.
There’s choir again today, and I’m not going. I’ll wait and see what the outcome will be, but according to S., I made the right decision. Honestly, I agree. There have been things bothering me for a long time, and I needed to make a decision. Sometimes making a decision is better than not making one at all.
I think I’m going to cut K. out of my life now. I still can’t understand how someone can never be available. I called on Monday. When there was no answer, I sent a message because I needed to ask something urgent. It’s been days, and there’s still no reply. No call back either. That kind of thing really gets to me. We make time for people—we take time away from ourselves and our families to listen to their problems. But when we need someone, why is nobody around? Why do we always have to be the ones making sacrifices? I could have been in real trouble. It could have been one of those moments when I actually needed her beside me.
I’m so tired of people’s carelessness. I’m human too, and I want to feel seen. When she goes out, she calls me to tell me all about her own troubles, without even asking how I’m doing. But when her husband is home, she doesn’t answer my calls and doesn’t even bother replying to my messages. Is her husband going to eat her alive? That’s her choice. Apparently she doesn’t want to deal with him in any way. At this point, I don’t even care about people’s excuses anymore.
Lately, it feels like all the things I’ve kept quiet about for so long are finally erupting. The last time I said I wouldn’t call her anymore, a month passed before she called—only when she happened to be out. There is always some excuse. A real friend doesn’t only talk about their own problems. A real friend knows that the person on the other side has worries and burdens too.
No matter how many years of friendship there may be, I think I’ve reached the point where I simply can’t carry anyone anymore. From now on, I’m in “enough is enough” mode. I’m tired of people constantly using me. For the past few days, I’ve been having trouble with my intestines again. No one genuinely asks how I’m doing. They only call when they need something. As if I’m just sitting here, available twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.
I’m not that easily reachable anymore. If someone truly wants to see me, they will call, they will find a way. Maybe it’s just years of accumulated weight, but I don’t think I can carry it any longer.
Sometimes certain people need to get off the train at certain stations. K.’s time to get off has not only come—it has already passed.
At the next station, I’m saying goodbye.