The trouble with massages

A few weekends ago, I treated myself to a massage. 


It's funny that I consider a massage a "treat", when I easily spend the same amount at the drugstore on various beauty items. But beauty products weren't really the ideal solution to the headache-a-day situation I was experiencing a few weeks ago. 


The thing about getting a massage is I'm never fully relaxed until it's time to go. To remedy this, I booked 90 minutes. If you've never had a 90-minute massage, it's the shit. Do it. Now. 


By the time it was over, I was about ready to move into Espace Nomad. I would have happily slept on that heated massage table until the next morning. And I would have happily paid the price of showing up at work the next day with hair full of massage oil. A small price to pay, if you think about it. Did I mention the table is heated? 


At the end of the massage, the massage therapist asked me if I was stressed. My immediate answer was "not really." But when I thought about it for a millisecond, I remembered that OH YAH - I'm moving in with my boyfriend in 10 days, in another province, to start a new job in a new city and I'm trying to rent out my condo to a non-crazy person and I have to buy a car and pack up my entire life and oh, my parents are getting a divorce. 


Whatevs. No biggie. 


I thought I was handling it all pretty well. I mean, for a stresscase like me who is always between 6-8 on the stress-o-meter, I was sleeping (mostly) and not busting out in tears at work (mostly). 


The move, for the most part, will work itself out. It will just be expensive. Finding a job was the hardest part and now that that is done, I have a growing to-do list of boring things like buying boxes and shutting off my cable and reserving the elevator. But the end result is getting to see my manfriend everyday and starting an actual life together in the same area code. I've moved around enough in my life to be able to handle another. I mean, this one is at least in the same country. Which is pretty easy compared to the places I've moved to in the past. No visa required. Sweet deal. 


My family, on the other hand, I'm not so sure about. I wake up thinking about it and I go to bed thinking about it. It's difficult enough that my parents are no longer together, but when people in my family throw even more issues on top of it and decide to stop speaking to other people in my family, it's a lot to take in. And that's what is happening. It's a situation I don't understand, cannot relate to and more importantly, breaks my heart. Every single day. 


My folks aren't perfect. Nobody is. But there is no doubt in my mind, that everything they've done in the their life, they've done for their children. And I feel incredibly lucky to have the parents that I do. Growing up, I had friends whose parents were selfish or mean or just didn't give a shit, and I didn't really understand it. Both of them, in different ways, have had my back my whole life. Besides, life is short and they aren't going to be around forever so if you can't wake up and just accept your folks, or the rest of your family, the way they are, then what's the point? You only get one family.


So, I've been doing my best to support both of them. It's hard. But they've been there for me my entire life and they are the only parents I have.They are still the exact same people, just a lot sadder. And each for different reasons. I really hope something improves because mostly I feel helpless. I can't fix any of this. I don't know what to say to either of them anymore. People keep telling me I have a choice. I can choose to take care of myself first, and take a break from my family. What? No. There is no such thing as a choice when it comes to your family. There is doing to the right thing and doing the wrong thing. And I can only get through this the best way I know how and that is by knowing that I'm doing the right thing.