I often hear some full-time mothers around me complain about the dullness and cumbersomeness of married life.
In the face of her husband's incomprehension, the pressure of the economy, the urgency of the relationship between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law, the irresponsible remarks of others, and the endless housework, a gorgeous woman was boiled alive into a yellow-faced mother-in-law.
Thinking about the past, I had the same confusion. In the past, my heart was irritable, sensitive and anxious, and my mood was often cloudy and unstable.
I once envied those young mothers who could participate in work normally after confinement.
They have elderly people to help with their children, do not have to do housework, have no financial pressure, and their lives can be as comfortable and relaxed as before.
And I, both parents are old, they are not very literate, because of the disparity in parenting concepts, I decisively chose to stay at home full-time.
But I was talked about by many neighbors and relatives, and some even accused me in person.
In the face of these misunderstandings, I felt aggrieved and helpless in my heart. Sometimes I can't help but defend, but I see that others have an attitude of disapproval.
Later, I simply chose to be silent and let others say it. However, the inner waves are difficult to calm down. When the mood is so bad that it is about to collapse, I can't help but complain to my friends.
They also give me comfort and encouragement. However, everyone has different experiences, different situations, and different views, and it is difficult to empathize.
Later, I stopped confiding in anyone, and I swallowed all the bitterness into my stomach. Day after day, those sorrows, confusion and confusion tormented me, leaving that heart scarred and broken.
It wasn't until I grew older, through the storm, and through the world, that I picked up the long-lost book again that I really walked into the words and began to slowly heal myself.
In the days when no one cares, how much pain and sadness turn into the slowly flowing stream at the end of the pen.
Come to think of it, I have had a special feeling for words since I was a child. What I remember vividly is that every semester I am very excited about releasing a new book.
I can't wait to open the book and look at the colorful illustrations and words inside, which makes me reverie infinitely. Pick up the book, read it in a similar way, smell the familiar and unique smell of the book, and be intoxicated.
I like to take Chinese classes the most, and I prefer to listen to the colorful narration of the Chinese teacher, and follow the vivid and interesting words to go to another magical world together.
At that time, I was too young to buy some extracurricular books to enrich myself. Only occasionally when I was flipping through the bookcase, I turned to the composition that my sister had read, and opened the book and read it with relish.
After entering middle school, I began to read "Reader" and "Youth Digest", and I was deeply moved by the warm and touching stories in the books, and I was deeply attracted by the beautifully written articles.
Later, when I joined the work, I would also go to the newsstand from time to time to buy a magazine. Occasionally, I also go to Xinhua Bookstore, read books, buy my favorite books when I see them, and sometimes record my mood in words.
Write with the feelings of life, and face life with what you gain from reading.
Words, let me learn to reconcile with myself. Make my heart quieter and quieter.
I stopped being easily disturbed by the outside world, began to listen to my inner voice, and stopped dwelling on something that could not be changed.
Begin to learn to turn the page, no longer dwell on the good and bad of the past, no longer affect the mood for some unimportant people and things, consume themselves.
Whenever I encounter some troubles in life, I will also let myself calm down, reflect on myself, and deal with it rationally.
In adult life, there are always too many difficulties, who are not injured while healing themselves. Everyone is healing themselves in their own way.
In the midst of trivial busyness, I use words to heal myself. In the text, my soul is placed, and in the text, I search for that piece of poetry and the distance.
Let the car and horse outside the window be noisy, dusty, my world, quiet and beautiful.