Showing posts with label plans. Show all posts
Showing posts with label plans. Show all posts
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Belated Valentine's Day Message
To Moneypenny. And to all my friends and family who keep putting up with me.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Guests, Not Tenants
I probably shouldn't be writing this, but, I'm a writer, or at least I like to think of myself as a writer so I felt the need to share. Maybe that make me more an exhibitionist than a writer, but I'll split the difference with you, if you'll just read.
The last month, has been a sort of barely controlled chaos. Not the kind of chaos that people like me thrive on, ones were we can make lists and prioritize and work our fingers to the bone until the chaos has been turned into order, sparkling beautiful order. No, this chaos is run by outside forces. Just as you get your mind around one thing and start to plan, start to make those lists, just then you get a new piece of information that blows those old plans out of the water. Sometimes, it is a new bit of information from the doctors, that the doctors looked over the new data and decided on a new course of treatment. Other times, it is a change in "the patient"s condition, which changes all the plans, all the treatment plans.
Monday, as I was driving back out to Podunk Town to see my uncle, my mother told me that my uncle's boyfriend had called an ambulance to take him to the local hospital because my uncle had gone from shaky, but able to walk with a walker that afternoon, to not being able to walk at all. Mom was rushing there behind me. We did the hospital merry-go-round because Podunk Hospital's MRI was down so late at night, so we went to Shitty Capital City's Hospital where a neurosurgeon with the bedside manner of a scorpion informed my uncle, his partner, my mother, and I, at 4am, that someone should have told us a long time ago that any and all surgical options were closed to him now and we shouldn't be talking to him but to a radiation specialist.
All the cancer docs talk to each other. My uncle gets moved back to Podunk Hospital, which is closer to his home, his friends, to his oncologist. Snow comes quickly and shows us that "closer" is a relative term, as I'm snowed into the trailer shortly after my uncle's boyfriend and my mom leave to visit the hospital. A Long unplowed driveway and unpaved unplowed roads mean I'm fucked. I so want to re-arrange things, for it to be easier for my uncle to navigate when he gets home, but I don't know where to start and, as he's kinda got that hoarder personality, I worry he'll get upset that I moved his stuff.
My second day of being stuck in the house and I'm getting a little antsy. Should have put in a movie or tv show on dvd but the couch puts me to sleep, though only when I'm not supposed to be sleeping. I took the garbage out. Then I decided to sweep the snow off the cars. It had already started on it's own, but I wanted to help it along. My thought was just to sweep off the car I would drive if I decided to drive anywhere. But then I started thinking about my uncle and my grandpa and how they wouldn't want their cars covered in snow, even if they couldn't go anywhere at all. And then I started crying. Oh, yeah, and then my neighbor showed up.
"Um, so you planning on going anywhere?"
Sniffle. "No, just needed something to do."
"Ok, well, if you don't feel like cooking tonight, you can come on in. I'm sure Candy [his wife] has plenty of leftovers."
Sniffle. Full on snot. "No, I think I'm ok."
Manly pause where he tried to decide what the hell to do with this crying chick. "Um, are you sure you're ok? Cause you can come on inside. Candy's inside."
Through full on tears, "Yep, I'm fine. Thanks alot though. Just gonna finish these cars then I'll go inside." Obviously, work makes me feel better.
Finally all the roads are plowed and I go up to see my uncle. My mom and my uncle's boyfriend are already there. My 'cousin' drives with me to the hospital and my uncle's boyfriend's mother and her bff show up just when we do. Talk about visitor overload, huh? Just before I arrive, my mom has a meeting with a social worker, who tells her that my uncle's insurance might not want to pay for the three day rehabilitation program which would teach my uncle how better get around, in and out of the wheelchair, as, while no one is saying it, is seems obvious that there isn't much hope that he is going to walk again. They may not want to pay because my uncle might not be able to do the rehabilitation, might not have the energy, might not have the ability. (To teach us how to do all this stuff, we'll have the home health care nurse, which is cheaper.) Ok, ok, ok, I'm along so far.
So that my uncle can have a bit of rest before his dinner, we (my mom, my uncle's boyfriend, my 'cousin,' and myself) sit in a waiting area. I wanted to start making plans, when are we gonna move this, where is this gonna go, how long before things are set up for my uncle to come home, how long before those of us who are taking care of him are settled in, can start looking for work. The last two are questions that get skirted around. No one will really look me in the eye when I talk about when I'm moving in, where we'll move the stuff that's currently in the closet so I can use that closet.
"Honey, I think that for right now we should think of ourselves more like guests at his house than tenants." That's when my mom finally met my eyes. I could see what she couldn't say, but I couldn't let it go unsaid.
"Because he won't last long enough for us to move in." She could only nod.
I got up and walked away. I made a few phone calls, but no one picked up. I was a bit relieved. I sent out a text and hir well-intentioned response fell flat. I wanted to talk to everyone but I also felt like no one could or would understand. "Now she's feeling more alone than she ever has before." (BFF) I need to talk but I'm not even sure what I have to say. All I know is that I hope I can stay strong enough, long enough to let this be about my uncle, about our family, not about me. And this was so much easier when I had someone I was physically intimate with. Oh my gods, so much easier.
I'm back at my folks house, in the Suburb of the Smallish Midwestern City. Mom needed to come back, replenish her supplies, as she had packed in a hurry for one night. I'm working on my 6th load of laundry.
I had an envelop with money that I was holding back when an acquaintance of mine finally got her own car, to help with car insurance or what have you. Not a big surprise, but that friendship kinda went kaput and the money is being re-purposed. Now the writing on the outside of the envelop says, "Funeral Outfit."
The last month, has been a sort of barely controlled chaos. Not the kind of chaos that people like me thrive on, ones were we can make lists and prioritize and work our fingers to the bone until the chaos has been turned into order, sparkling beautiful order. No, this chaos is run by outside forces. Just as you get your mind around one thing and start to plan, start to make those lists, just then you get a new piece of information that blows those old plans out of the water. Sometimes, it is a new bit of information from the doctors, that the doctors looked over the new data and decided on a new course of treatment. Other times, it is a change in "the patient"s condition, which changes all the plans, all the treatment plans.
Monday, as I was driving back out to Podunk Town to see my uncle, my mother told me that my uncle's boyfriend had called an ambulance to take him to the local hospital because my uncle had gone from shaky, but able to walk with a walker that afternoon, to not being able to walk at all. Mom was rushing there behind me. We did the hospital merry-go-round because Podunk Hospital's MRI was down so late at night, so we went to Shitty Capital City's Hospital where a neurosurgeon with the bedside manner of a scorpion informed my uncle, his partner, my mother, and I, at 4am, that someone should have told us a long time ago that any and all surgical options were closed to him now and we shouldn't be talking to him but to a radiation specialist.
All the cancer docs talk to each other. My uncle gets moved back to Podunk Hospital, which is closer to his home, his friends, to his oncologist. Snow comes quickly and shows us that "closer" is a relative term, as I'm snowed into the trailer shortly after my uncle's boyfriend and my mom leave to visit the hospital. A Long unplowed driveway and unpaved unplowed roads mean I'm fucked. I so want to re-arrange things, for it to be easier for my uncle to navigate when he gets home, but I don't know where to start and, as he's kinda got that hoarder personality, I worry he'll get upset that I moved his stuff.
My second day of being stuck in the house and I'm getting a little antsy. Should have put in a movie or tv show on dvd but the couch puts me to sleep, though only when I'm not supposed to be sleeping. I took the garbage out. Then I decided to sweep the snow off the cars. It had already started on it's own, but I wanted to help it along. My thought was just to sweep off the car I would drive if I decided to drive anywhere. But then I started thinking about my uncle and my grandpa and how they wouldn't want their cars covered in snow, even if they couldn't go anywhere at all. And then I started crying. Oh, yeah, and then my neighbor showed up.
"Um, so you planning on going anywhere?"
Sniffle. "No, just needed something to do."
"Ok, well, if you don't feel like cooking tonight, you can come on in. I'm sure Candy [his wife] has plenty of leftovers."
Sniffle. Full on snot. "No, I think I'm ok."
Manly pause where he tried to decide what the hell to do with this crying chick. "Um, are you sure you're ok? Cause you can come on inside. Candy's inside."
Through full on tears, "Yep, I'm fine. Thanks alot though. Just gonna finish these cars then I'll go inside." Obviously, work makes me feel better.
Finally all the roads are plowed and I go up to see my uncle. My mom and my uncle's boyfriend are already there. My 'cousin' drives with me to the hospital and my uncle's boyfriend's mother and her bff show up just when we do. Talk about visitor overload, huh? Just before I arrive, my mom has a meeting with a social worker, who tells her that my uncle's insurance might not want to pay for the three day rehabilitation program which would teach my uncle how better get around, in and out of the wheelchair, as, while no one is saying it, is seems obvious that there isn't much hope that he is going to walk again. They may not want to pay because my uncle might not be able to do the rehabilitation, might not have the energy, might not have the ability. (To teach us how to do all this stuff, we'll have the home health care nurse, which is cheaper.) Ok, ok, ok, I'm along so far.
So that my uncle can have a bit of rest before his dinner, we (my mom, my uncle's boyfriend, my 'cousin,' and myself) sit in a waiting area. I wanted to start making plans, when are we gonna move this, where is this gonna go, how long before things are set up for my uncle to come home, how long before those of us who are taking care of him are settled in, can start looking for work. The last two are questions that get skirted around. No one will really look me in the eye when I talk about when I'm moving in, where we'll move the stuff that's currently in the closet so I can use that closet.
"Honey, I think that for right now we should think of ourselves more like guests at his house than tenants." That's when my mom finally met my eyes. I could see what she couldn't say, but I couldn't let it go unsaid.
"Because he won't last long enough for us to move in." She could only nod.
I got up and walked away. I made a few phone calls, but no one picked up. I was a bit relieved. I sent out a text and hir well-intentioned response fell flat. I wanted to talk to everyone but I also felt like no one could or would understand. "Now she's feeling more alone than she ever has before." (BFF) I need to talk but I'm not even sure what I have to say. All I know is that I hope I can stay strong enough, long enough to let this be about my uncle, about our family, not about me. And this was so much easier when I had someone I was physically intimate with. Oh my gods, so much easier.
I'm back at my folks house, in the Suburb of the Smallish Midwestern City. Mom needed to come back, replenish her supplies, as she had packed in a hurry for one night. I'm working on my 6th load of laundry.
I had an envelop with money that I was holding back when an acquaintance of mine finally got her own car, to help with car insurance or what have you. Not a big surprise, but that friendship kinda went kaput and the money is being re-purposed. Now the writing on the outside of the envelop says, "Funeral Outfit."
Friday, January 02, 2009
Same Shit, Different Year
Alright, so this didn't all just happen since the ball dropped and started 2009, but alot of the stuff happening right now don't really make me feel hugely optimistic for this new year. Also, as I examine my current biggest conundrum, I feel strangely like I've been here before. Oh, yeah, it's because I have.
Small shit first, though. As most people know, the economy sucks and the job market isn't good either. I'm registered with several temporary employment agencies, the state employment agency, and I fill out applications and send out resumes all the time. I've had very few interviews and the ones I do get go horribly wrong. My first interview at a local casino had to be rescheduled because I got lost attempting to get to there. I should have had at least 30 extra minutes. I had directions from online and a map printed from the same website. Still got lost. So lost that, by the time I figured out how to get there and got turned around, I was already late to the appointment while still 20 minutes away. Another interview went very well and I even had a second interview this week. They showed me their computer program for the specific job and we discussed specific hours and pay. Then, at the end of the interview, just before I left, when I thought I had this job on lock, the boss said that he thought it important to let me know that it was a Christian company and, while they didn't hire or not hire based on religion, that was how they did business. I said that I was more than fine with that, though I wasn't a Christian myself, and that the one thing I could see as being a potential problem is that I'm openly bisexual and involved in the gay and lesbian community, which I knew could be a problem for some Christians. That was the end of that interview and my chances at that job. Though the BIG issue might make having a job here a moot point. But I'll get to that later.
I had a doctor's appointment that I couldn't pay for at the time like I was supposed to because they wouldn't accept my mother's credit card without her there. I stopped keeping track of how much money I owe my parents at this point. It's too depressing and, realistically, I'll probably never pay them back anyway. Best just to attempt to make myself as much of a slave to them as I can, do as much of the housework and errands as possible. I'm not sure what I'm going to do about January's bills. My car needs some serious work and I'll be completely fucked when it breaks down on me after over 1 1/2 years of the "Service Engine" light being on.
Doc is playing with my meds again. Just before Christmas, I got a blood test to check my lithium levels and some other shit. New Year's Eve, my doc's physician's assistant called me and told me that the doc had gotten the test results in and I should just stop taking the lithium. She was very casual and nonchalant about it all. I was fairly speechless. I have this problem, especially around any kind of "authority figure" who tells me something unexpected or uncomprehended. Without proper time to collect my thoughts, I usually just agree and leave/hang up, only to realize within a few minutes all the questions I should have asked or the things I should have said. I did manage to ask her if I should step-down on the lithium or just go cold turkey. She did say that I should just stop all together, cold turkey, which contradicts everything I'd been told about the medicine previously. I called back and left a message, asking for more details, what the tests showed, why he wanted me to stop, etc, but I haven't heard back, obviously. I'm still just... very confused. Were the levels too high, dangerous? If so, wouldn't it be better to step down, hoping to avoid any crazy side effects from going from too high to nothing at all? Or were the levels too low to be therepeutic, so increasing the dose for effectiveness would increase my side effects to unbearable levels, when I'm feeling... a bit better anyway? I'm so frustrated!!!!!!!!! Why put up with all the bullshit side effects if he was just going to take me off it?!?!?!? Or are we going to try something else after this? Hell, I know this sounds completely superficial, but part of the reason I cut my hair off was because of how dry and unmanagable it had become since getting on the lithium. I assumed I'd be on it for quite awhile and I just couldn't do anything ok looking with my hair on this medicine. But now I'm off of it and my hair should go back to normal so I did it for nothing!?!?! I hate this stupid fucking medicine, medical, psychiatry bullshit!
Shouldn't complain too much about my social life and love life. Things are more settled down at the moment, though I somehow keep managing to pick fights with TyRoy and ruin all possibilities for good times. The rest of my friends seem to be luckier, as they are around alot less and are less close to me. I continue to date, despite other situations, and have made friends, maybe more, who knows.
So, for the big issue that's got me tied up in knots right now- taking care of family. Summer 2007 I was in Slightly Bigger Midwestern City (SBMC), taking care of my grandpa in the hospital and taking care of my overwhelmed but healthy grandmother. Early on, I started worrying about... well, to put it bluntly, getting stuck there. If anyone was going to stay there and help, it would be me because I didn't have any concrete ties, job, nuclear family, etc, that I had to stay in Slightly Smaller Midwestern City for. My mom had her job and my dad. My uncle, who'd just gotten his first surgery to remove a tumor, had to stay at his job and in the state to get medical care under his current insurance. Also all his friends, his support network, his partner are in the state. At that time, I had a couple of friends in SBMC and no job or significant other back in SSMC. I was supposed to start a new school semester and a new job in August but I could have skipped that. Ended up fucking both up anyway.
But I'm pretty sure that not all people feel this same kind of obligation to take care of family personally and directly. I think part of it has to do with how close we all are both emotionally and geographically and that we just aren't a big family. I'm an only child, thus I know I'll have to care for my parents, probably all three of them, and an only grandchild. For me, I think that part of it has to do with the fact that, as a female, it's been drilled into me by society that I should be the one to take care of family-related things. I vaguely remember an in-bed conversation with TyRoy about a co-worker who was having a difficult time deciding what to do about caring for her parents or in-laws when there were other siblings and family members, blah, blah, blah. I think HIS point was that there were so many more options than she was acting like there were, most especially putting the person or people in a care facility, and that she shouldn't be the only one making the decisions. Oh, and quit bitching so much. Sigh. I can understand his frustration and I don't necessarily disagree that she should have more family help and that there are options other than direct personal care. But I don't think that society puts the same pressure on him, as a man with a career that takes him all over the world whenever it wants, to take care of an ailing parent or grandparent in a direct personal way. He just doesn't see it as his JOB to be there, in person, to take care of his parents. And most (straight) (American) men do not.
On the other hand, when it started to feel like my grandmother might need someone living with her all the time when I was visiting for Christmas, I started to panic internally. On Christmas Eve, there were several times where she forgot things, messed things up, couldn't follow instructions, and things like that. I started to wonder to myself how we could trust that she was taking her medications on time and in the right amount and things like that. I tried to push it into the back of my head because things looked fine. She seemed to be taking care of herself and the house and the dog. Then she went into the hospital because she was having upper respiratory problems after a head cold the week before. While Mom seemed to dismiss the memory issues as just a lack of oxygen getting to the brain because of the respiratory problems, they seemed to continue while she was in the hospital. My uncle and his partner stayed because my uncle is currently on disability, unable to work with the cancer treatments, and his partner still had more vacation time. And while my uncle is planning on staying there a bit longer, when he and I discussed things, he made clear that he does not forsee himself being the one who stays in SBMC to care for grandma. He is of the opinion that no one should be forced to move, but that, since it is grandma who needs the help and grandma who complains about the house being too much for her, she should choose to move closer to all of us, as we'd be more than happy to help out in anyway we could. He doesn't think that I should feel like I have to go there just because I'm the only one who is in a position to. Physically, my uncle isn't in a position to do the things that my grandmother things he should be able to. But he stated, point blank, that he knew he couldn't mentally or emotionally and he was't going to try to make himself. After my experience in the summer of 2007, I know that I'd go fucking nuts if I had to live with my grandmother 24/7 and take care of her. I do love her, so much. And it might not be very grateful of me to say that I couldn't do it, because Goddess knows my family has put up with me being a major bitch for all my life, but I just know I can't. And I have lived in her house several times during my adult life, always as a stop-over before a dorm or my own place, without trouble. But at the time she had Grandpa to balance her out and I didn't have an obligation to care for her, just help to pull my own weight.
In the end, however, the problem is that, whether Grandma should move to be closer to us so we can care for her or not, I seriously doubt she ever will. Which means we'll have to collectively and individually decide at what point do we think she has to have someone there and, if professional in-home care can't be obtained, who will go and be with her. None of us want her to live alone if it is too much for her, for her living conditions to deteriorate. And none of us want her to have to go into "a home". If we had to make that decision right now, it'd be me doing it, if for no other reason than that no one else will. Honestly, I guess I still have just as little to lose by moving to SBMC as I did summer 07, except for the only thing I really passionately want is here and cannot move to SBMC. Oh, and those friends I had in SBMC? I alienated one. One thinks I'm too dangerous. And the other is in jail. So that's out too.
One of my short story teachers defined melodrama as arising from a situation where the character is in what appears to be a perfect trap, where the only ways out are suicide or homicide. I wouldn't go so far as to say that is how I feel here but I do feel a certain trap here. I don't have anything else important in my life, no good reason not to do this thing that I feel very very VERY obligated to do. But I know in my heart that doing it will probably make me completely miserable. It will also mean that I spend several years with my life on hold, working to prevent the only thing that will end my endentured servitude. When those years ended, I don't know how I could not be a bitter emotional wreck. And seeing as I'll probably have to work full-time and care for my grandmother, I'm not sure when I'd have time to make new friends, find new lovers, or even just have a little time to myself. *Sigh* Yeah, I feel trapped.
Well, sorry to bitch so much. But I needed to vent to someone who can't tell me that they don't understand or that I'm wrong while I was doing it. If you have a similar situation or concerns in your life or you want to talk about how you feel about your family aging and what you see your role to be, go ahead and comment. Thanks.
Small shit first, though. As most people know, the economy sucks and the job market isn't good either. I'm registered with several temporary employment agencies, the state employment agency, and I fill out applications and send out resumes all the time. I've had very few interviews and the ones I do get go horribly wrong. My first interview at a local casino had to be rescheduled because I got lost attempting to get to there. I should have had at least 30 extra minutes. I had directions from online and a map printed from the same website. Still got lost. So lost that, by the time I figured out how to get there and got turned around, I was already late to the appointment while still 20 minutes away. Another interview went very well and I even had a second interview this week. They showed me their computer program for the specific job and we discussed specific hours and pay. Then, at the end of the interview, just before I left, when I thought I had this job on lock, the boss said that he thought it important to let me know that it was a Christian company and, while they didn't hire or not hire based on religion, that was how they did business. I said that I was more than fine with that, though I wasn't a Christian myself, and that the one thing I could see as being a potential problem is that I'm openly bisexual and involved in the gay and lesbian community, which I knew could be a problem for some Christians. That was the end of that interview and my chances at that job. Though the BIG issue might make having a job here a moot point. But I'll get to that later.
I had a doctor's appointment that I couldn't pay for at the time like I was supposed to because they wouldn't accept my mother's credit card without her there. I stopped keeping track of how much money I owe my parents at this point. It's too depressing and, realistically, I'll probably never pay them back anyway. Best just to attempt to make myself as much of a slave to them as I can, do as much of the housework and errands as possible. I'm not sure what I'm going to do about January's bills. My car needs some serious work and I'll be completely fucked when it breaks down on me after over 1 1/2 years of the "Service Engine" light being on.
Doc is playing with my meds again. Just before Christmas, I got a blood test to check my lithium levels and some other shit. New Year's Eve, my doc's physician's assistant called me and told me that the doc had gotten the test results in and I should just stop taking the lithium. She was very casual and nonchalant about it all. I was fairly speechless. I have this problem, especially around any kind of "authority figure" who tells me something unexpected or uncomprehended. Without proper time to collect my thoughts, I usually just agree and leave/hang up, only to realize within a few minutes all the questions I should have asked or the things I should have said. I did manage to ask her if I should step-down on the lithium or just go cold turkey. She did say that I should just stop all together, cold turkey, which contradicts everything I'd been told about the medicine previously. I called back and left a message, asking for more details, what the tests showed, why he wanted me to stop, etc, but I haven't heard back, obviously. I'm still just... very confused. Were the levels too high, dangerous? If so, wouldn't it be better to step down, hoping to avoid any crazy side effects from going from too high to nothing at all? Or were the levels too low to be therepeutic, so increasing the dose for effectiveness would increase my side effects to unbearable levels, when I'm feeling... a bit better anyway? I'm so frustrated!!!!!!!!! Why put up with all the bullshit side effects if he was just going to take me off it?!?!?!? Or are we going to try something else after this? Hell, I know this sounds completely superficial, but part of the reason I cut my hair off was because of how dry and unmanagable it had become since getting on the lithium. I assumed I'd be on it for quite awhile and I just couldn't do anything ok looking with my hair on this medicine. But now I'm off of it and my hair should go back to normal so I did it for nothing!?!?! I hate this stupid fucking medicine, medical, psychiatry bullshit!
Shouldn't complain too much about my social life and love life. Things are more settled down at the moment, though I somehow keep managing to pick fights with TyRoy and ruin all possibilities for good times. The rest of my friends seem to be luckier, as they are around alot less and are less close to me. I continue to date, despite other situations, and have made friends, maybe more, who knows.
So, for the big issue that's got me tied up in knots right now- taking care of family. Summer 2007 I was in Slightly Bigger Midwestern City (SBMC), taking care of my grandpa in the hospital and taking care of my overwhelmed but healthy grandmother. Early on, I started worrying about... well, to put it bluntly, getting stuck there. If anyone was going to stay there and help, it would be me because I didn't have any concrete ties, job, nuclear family, etc, that I had to stay in Slightly Smaller Midwestern City for. My mom had her job and my dad. My uncle, who'd just gotten his first surgery to remove a tumor, had to stay at his job and in the state to get medical care under his current insurance. Also all his friends, his support network, his partner are in the state. At that time, I had a couple of friends in SBMC and no job or significant other back in SSMC. I was supposed to start a new school semester and a new job in August but I could have skipped that. Ended up fucking both up anyway.
But I'm pretty sure that not all people feel this same kind of obligation to take care of family personally and directly. I think part of it has to do with how close we all are both emotionally and geographically and that we just aren't a big family. I'm an only child, thus I know I'll have to care for my parents, probably all three of them, and an only grandchild. For me, I think that part of it has to do with the fact that, as a female, it's been drilled into me by society that I should be the one to take care of family-related things. I vaguely remember an in-bed conversation with TyRoy about a co-worker who was having a difficult time deciding what to do about caring for her parents or in-laws when there were other siblings and family members, blah, blah, blah. I think HIS point was that there were so many more options than she was acting like there were, most especially putting the person or people in a care facility, and that she shouldn't be the only one making the decisions. Oh, and quit bitching so much. Sigh. I can understand his frustration and I don't necessarily disagree that she should have more family help and that there are options other than direct personal care. But I don't think that society puts the same pressure on him, as a man with a career that takes him all over the world whenever it wants, to take care of an ailing parent or grandparent in a direct personal way. He just doesn't see it as his JOB to be there, in person, to take care of his parents. And most (straight) (American) men do not.
On the other hand, when it started to feel like my grandmother might need someone living with her all the time when I was visiting for Christmas, I started to panic internally. On Christmas Eve, there were several times where she forgot things, messed things up, couldn't follow instructions, and things like that. I started to wonder to myself how we could trust that she was taking her medications on time and in the right amount and things like that. I tried to push it into the back of my head because things looked fine. She seemed to be taking care of herself and the house and the dog. Then she went into the hospital because she was having upper respiratory problems after a head cold the week before. While Mom seemed to dismiss the memory issues as just a lack of oxygen getting to the brain because of the respiratory problems, they seemed to continue while she was in the hospital. My uncle and his partner stayed because my uncle is currently on disability, unable to work with the cancer treatments, and his partner still had more vacation time. And while my uncle is planning on staying there a bit longer, when he and I discussed things, he made clear that he does not forsee himself being the one who stays in SBMC to care for grandma. He is of the opinion that no one should be forced to move, but that, since it is grandma who needs the help and grandma who complains about the house being too much for her, she should choose to move closer to all of us, as we'd be more than happy to help out in anyway we could. He doesn't think that I should feel like I have to go there just because I'm the only one who is in a position to. Physically, my uncle isn't in a position to do the things that my grandmother things he should be able to. But he stated, point blank, that he knew he couldn't mentally or emotionally and he was't going to try to make himself. After my experience in the summer of 2007, I know that I'd go fucking nuts if I had to live with my grandmother 24/7 and take care of her. I do love her, so much. And it might not be very grateful of me to say that I couldn't do it, because Goddess knows my family has put up with me being a major bitch for all my life, but I just know I can't. And I have lived in her house several times during my adult life, always as a stop-over before a dorm or my own place, without trouble. But at the time she had Grandpa to balance her out and I didn't have an obligation to care for her, just help to pull my own weight.
In the end, however, the problem is that, whether Grandma should move to be closer to us so we can care for her or not, I seriously doubt she ever will. Which means we'll have to collectively and individually decide at what point do we think she has to have someone there and, if professional in-home care can't be obtained, who will go and be with her. None of us want her to live alone if it is too much for her, for her living conditions to deteriorate. And none of us want her to have to go into "a home". If we had to make that decision right now, it'd be me doing it, if for no other reason than that no one else will. Honestly, I guess I still have just as little to lose by moving to SBMC as I did summer 07, except for the only thing I really passionately want is here and cannot move to SBMC. Oh, and those friends I had in SBMC? I alienated one. One thinks I'm too dangerous. And the other is in jail. So that's out too.
One of my short story teachers defined melodrama as arising from a situation where the character is in what appears to be a perfect trap, where the only ways out are suicide or homicide. I wouldn't go so far as to say that is how I feel here but I do feel a certain trap here. I don't have anything else important in my life, no good reason not to do this thing that I feel very very VERY obligated to do. But I know in my heart that doing it will probably make me completely miserable. It will also mean that I spend several years with my life on hold, working to prevent the only thing that will end my endentured servitude. When those years ended, I don't know how I could not be a bitter emotional wreck. And seeing as I'll probably have to work full-time and care for my grandmother, I'm not sure when I'd have time to make new friends, find new lovers, or even just have a little time to myself. *Sigh* Yeah, I feel trapped.
Well, sorry to bitch so much. But I needed to vent to someone who can't tell me that they don't understand or that I'm wrong while I was doing it. If you have a similar situation or concerns in your life or you want to talk about how you feel about your family aging and what you see your role to be, go ahead and comment. Thanks.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Post I Don't Want to Write
So I've been MIA lately. And I've written this post a thousand times in my head over the past couple of weeks, trying to find what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it. If I wrote the latest version of everything in my head, you'd be reading it forever. So I decided that I'd try to be as short and blunt about it as I can be and then I'll revisit topics as I want and as I see fit. But mapping this new landscape is like creating a topography of sand dunes- it feels impossible because everything is always shifting. But I feel I can't write about anything specific without laying it all out, so here goes:
When we last left our heroine, she was trying to get it together to work this job that she hated but she was back with her husband, the newly returned soldier, so she thought she could do it.
So, I went to hang out with BT before I was supposed to go back to the job I detested. While it mostly went well, I was really anxious about going to the job. Finally, he and I talked it over and he was going to let me get off without going back to that job if I started looking for another job starting that night online while he did stuff around his place. But he wasn't feeling well and he wanted me to leave. I wasn't happy about that. I spiralled out of control, allowing my anger and the depression to take over. With pills and alcohol, I tried to kill myself. BT ended up calling the police because he was worried that I was too far gone. The cops took me to a local emergency room and then I got admitted to the hospital I was in last year. I was there for the better part of a week, during which my parents and BT visited me when they could. TyRoy was worried about me and I kept him updated on my condition over his voicemail. The couple of times we actually talked while I was in the hospital, we fought, in all honesty because I was being difficult about making the most of the treatment there. And I asked him not to visit because I knew that it would only cause more trouble with BT. My doc put me on a new medication- LITHIUM. It's typically used as a mood stabilizer for people with bipolar disorder, which isn't really my diagnosis, though obviously my moods do need some normalization. But it sucks, sucks, sucks. More about the lithium as we go.
Almost as soon as I got out of the hospital, BT and I started a rollercoaster of arguing and making up then arguing some more. I won't try to act like I don't bear some/alot of the blame for that. Because of both times that BT had lied in the last year and the secrets/lies that I was keeping at the time, I have a difficult time trusting any men, especially BT. So when he left me because a (female) friend had called about a (male) friend of theirs who was in a bad way and needed BT's help, I was distraught and thought he was cheating with the (female) friend. He kept wanting time away from me, which he said was a result of not being comfortable around anyone since coming back from his deployment. It was horrible timing for me. Not only had he said the whole time that he was gone that he'd want to be with me 24/7 when he got back, but I really didn't want to be alone after the hospitalization, while I was still getting adjusted to the new drugs. As those first couple of days out of the hospital went by, I started experiencing more and more severe side effects connected to the new drugs. I felt physically weak and ill most of the time. And I wasn't feeling any better mentally, especially not after we'd fight. I still just wanted to die.
Things came to a head when I came out with the secrets I'd been keeping and the few lies that I had told and told again. As I was already feeling worthless, revealing these things made me feel not only the betrayal of my husband but also like a worthless slut whore. As these things are already sore spots for me and my depression, it all made me feel even worse. And BT just wanted me not to be around. During this conversation, I gave him my rings and told him that he deserved better than to be married to a whore. For quite a while, he wouldn't let me leave until I'd taken the rings back and promised that I wouldn't hurt myself. I would do neither. I left the house but came back. At that point, I took my rings back. After more squabbling, he made me promise that I'd be around to "do the paperwork" for a divorce. At the time, I thought this was more about the "being around" than doing the paperwork.
I let him know when I got home that night but then I didn't hear from him for two days. When I finally did, I found out that he was serious. He said he was done, couldn't forgive the lies I'd told, couldn't deal with the fighting, and just wanted a divorce. I went to his place to change his mind but he texted that he'd already left there. I decided I would just jump off a local bridge. I was tired of things that didn't work. But then, as I was mustering up my courage, sitting in my car in a parking lot, a group of young men and a couple women, all dressed in camo uniforms (BDUs?) started pulling up. While it would be the first time that I cussed up a storm about something military, it is definately not the last. I feel like I can't get away from military shit lately, which only reminds me of BT, though I'm trying to change that.....We'll see how it goes. Though I have no idea what branch these people were with or what the frak they were doing there, I figured they would probably not let a distraught woman jump to her certain death, so I drove home. And started the long slow.... well, less march, more....sit to get through the darkest part.
TyRoy has been a good friend through all of this. I met him because he was going through a divorce and needed a friend. He understands what it's like to have to give up a relationship that you don't want to leave. And, while he warned me about his lustful nature when I'd ask to come over, he never actually tried anything, at least not until I put out that I wanted something. He just let me be someplace that wasn't home, with all the reminders of BT, and held me and talked to me. BT let me know a week after the initial breakup that he'd moved on with his (female) friend. Even though alot of people in my inner circle have suggested that I make this breakup and divorce as difficult and painful as possible for BT, I figure they don't have to sleep in my body with my brain running every night. I've already done enough in my life that I regret, things that just add to my "I'm a horrible person who deserves pain and death" mantra. I don't want to add hurting someone that I love very much. His life has been hard and so has mine. I did horrible things to him and he did them to me. But I have to be responsible for my actions and I don't want to do anymore to cause pain and suffering. And, to tell the truth, I still want to be with him. I'm trying to leave him be and I do hope that he is happy and I'm doing my best not to do anything that will even look like it's attempting to sabatoge his new relationship. Including trying to tell his mom that I'm the reason we broke up and that she should accept this new girlfriend.
As for me and my life, well, I'm working on it. I didn't move from the couch in my den for a week after I got the news. Then I made the trip to see my Gram with my Mom and got to spend a little time with my ex, who I think is in jail now. But it gave me other people to worry about, which is something. I started doing a bit more. Spent time with TyRoy and got laid. Alot. The side effects started easing up. The drugs intensified the tremor that runs in my family and, though that hasn't eased up, I am pushing myself to do things and deal with it. I still have a low appetite but I'm just trying to eat when my family eats. While I crave soda, I know that my body needs more water while I'm on the meds, so I try to alternate a can of soda with a 32 oz glass of water. And, thankfully, the "fog" is mostly gone. I still get spells, but I'm not completely out of it all the time. So I decided to start looking for work. Until I find a job, I'm going to try to keep somewhat of a daytime schedule and do stuff around the house to help my folks. And, once I start working, I'm going to save as much as possible, so that I never have to feel like I can't just go whenever I want.
Ok, so that wasn't as short as I was hoping but there you have what's happened lately. I'm sure I'll write more about what I think these things mean and what I've learned, or at least am trying to learn.
When we last left our heroine, she was trying to get it together to work this job that she hated but she was back with her husband, the newly returned soldier, so she thought she could do it.
So, I went to hang out with BT before I was supposed to go back to the job I detested. While it mostly went well, I was really anxious about going to the job. Finally, he and I talked it over and he was going to let me get off without going back to that job if I started looking for another job starting that night online while he did stuff around his place. But he wasn't feeling well and he wanted me to leave. I wasn't happy about that. I spiralled out of control, allowing my anger and the depression to take over. With pills and alcohol, I tried to kill myself. BT ended up calling the police because he was worried that I was too far gone. The cops took me to a local emergency room and then I got admitted to the hospital I was in last year. I was there for the better part of a week, during which my parents and BT visited me when they could. TyRoy was worried about me and I kept him updated on my condition over his voicemail. The couple of times we actually talked while I was in the hospital, we fought, in all honesty because I was being difficult about making the most of the treatment there. And I asked him not to visit because I knew that it would only cause more trouble with BT. My doc put me on a new medication- LITHIUM. It's typically used as a mood stabilizer for people with bipolar disorder, which isn't really my diagnosis, though obviously my moods do need some normalization. But it sucks, sucks, sucks. More about the lithium as we go.
Almost as soon as I got out of the hospital, BT and I started a rollercoaster of arguing and making up then arguing some more. I won't try to act like I don't bear some/alot of the blame for that. Because of both times that BT had lied in the last year and the secrets/lies that I was keeping at the time, I have a difficult time trusting any men, especially BT. So when he left me because a (female) friend had called about a (male) friend of theirs who was in a bad way and needed BT's help, I was distraught and thought he was cheating with the (female) friend. He kept wanting time away from me, which he said was a result of not being comfortable around anyone since coming back from his deployment. It was horrible timing for me. Not only had he said the whole time that he was gone that he'd want to be with me 24/7 when he got back, but I really didn't want to be alone after the hospitalization, while I was still getting adjusted to the new drugs. As those first couple of days out of the hospital went by, I started experiencing more and more severe side effects connected to the new drugs. I felt physically weak and ill most of the time. And I wasn't feeling any better mentally, especially not after we'd fight. I still just wanted to die.
Things came to a head when I came out with the secrets I'd been keeping and the few lies that I had told and told again. As I was already feeling worthless, revealing these things made me feel not only the betrayal of my husband but also like a worthless slut whore. As these things are already sore spots for me and my depression, it all made me feel even worse. And BT just wanted me not to be around. During this conversation, I gave him my rings and told him that he deserved better than to be married to a whore. For quite a while, he wouldn't let me leave until I'd taken the rings back and promised that I wouldn't hurt myself. I would do neither. I left the house but came back. At that point, I took my rings back. After more squabbling, he made me promise that I'd be around to "do the paperwork" for a divorce. At the time, I thought this was more about the "being around" than doing the paperwork.
I let him know when I got home that night but then I didn't hear from him for two days. When I finally did, I found out that he was serious. He said he was done, couldn't forgive the lies I'd told, couldn't deal with the fighting, and just wanted a divorce. I went to his place to change his mind but he texted that he'd already left there. I decided I would just jump off a local bridge. I was tired of things that didn't work. But then, as I was mustering up my courage, sitting in my car in a parking lot, a group of young men and a couple women, all dressed in camo uniforms (BDUs?) started pulling up. While it would be the first time that I cussed up a storm about something military, it is definately not the last. I feel like I can't get away from military shit lately, which only reminds me of BT, though I'm trying to change that.....We'll see how it goes. Though I have no idea what branch these people were with or what the frak they were doing there, I figured they would probably not let a distraught woman jump to her certain death, so I drove home. And started the long slow.... well, less march, more....sit to get through the darkest part.
TyRoy has been a good friend through all of this. I met him because he was going through a divorce and needed a friend. He understands what it's like to have to give up a relationship that you don't want to leave. And, while he warned me about his lustful nature when I'd ask to come over, he never actually tried anything, at least not until I put out that I wanted something. He just let me be someplace that wasn't home, with all the reminders of BT, and held me and talked to me. BT let me know a week after the initial breakup that he'd moved on with his (female) friend. Even though alot of people in my inner circle have suggested that I make this breakup and divorce as difficult and painful as possible for BT, I figure they don't have to sleep in my body with my brain running every night. I've already done enough in my life that I regret, things that just add to my "I'm a horrible person who deserves pain and death" mantra. I don't want to add hurting someone that I love very much. His life has been hard and so has mine. I did horrible things to him and he did them to me. But I have to be responsible for my actions and I don't want to do anymore to cause pain and suffering. And, to tell the truth, I still want to be with him. I'm trying to leave him be and I do hope that he is happy and I'm doing my best not to do anything that will even look like it's attempting to sabatoge his new relationship. Including trying to tell his mom that I'm the reason we broke up and that she should accept this new girlfriend.
As for me and my life, well, I'm working on it. I didn't move from the couch in my den for a week after I got the news. Then I made the trip to see my Gram with my Mom and got to spend a little time with my ex, who I think is in jail now. But it gave me other people to worry about, which is something. I started doing a bit more. Spent time with TyRoy and got laid. Alot. The side effects started easing up. The drugs intensified the tremor that runs in my family and, though that hasn't eased up, I am pushing myself to do things and deal with it. I still have a low appetite but I'm just trying to eat when my family eats. While I crave soda, I know that my body needs more water while I'm on the meds, so I try to alternate a can of soda with a 32 oz glass of water. And, thankfully, the "fog" is mostly gone. I still get spells, but I'm not completely out of it all the time. So I decided to start looking for work. Until I find a job, I'm going to try to keep somewhat of a daytime schedule and do stuff around the house to help my folks. And, once I start working, I'm going to save as much as possible, so that I never have to feel like I can't just go whenever I want.
Ok, so that wasn't as short as I was hoping but there you have what's happened lately. I'm sure I'll write more about what I think these things mean and what I've learned, or at least am trying to learn.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
A Different Kind of Freedom
So I'm kinda stuck right now. Thankfully, this time it isn't because I don't know what I should do. What I should do is pretty easy and laid out there easy as pie for me. It's more getting off my ass and doing it that has been the hard part.
I guess I've done this enough times that I should know what to do. And I know that making certain commitments will get me moving, which is why I start by doing that. For example: Even though I wasn't ready to actually go back to school, I knew back in July that I needed to go back to classes in the fall, so I did the easy part of it. I enrolled in the classes. I filled out the FAFSA. By the time I had to go up to school to sort this and that out, I had already gotten the ball rolling, so I figured I might as well do the crappy stuff too, so I could get to the fun stuff (the learning, yeah, I'm a dork). So why haven't I gone to get my books yet? Classes start Monday. And I ended up going out of town at the last minute, so getting my books has been permanently postponed until Monday after my first class.
The easy answer to why I haven't gotten my school books yet is just that I'm lazy. And that my sleep schedule is very messed up right now and I'm sleeping all day, awake all night. (I blame talking to BT, who is +8 hours from me. ;) ) But the real answer has alot more to do with being scared than anything else.
If things go even partially as planned, I'm going to be entering the real, grown-up, sink or swim world here in the next couple months. It won't be terribly well-planned. And it won't be like some sitcom dream. When BT comes back to the States, I'm only really hoping for us to have enough money to get a place and to get him a vehicle, mostly because circumstances have been such that we haven't started saving until just now. (My parents aren't too keen on us living in their basement and, frankly, neither am I.) I will have a part-time job, but I will also be going to school. While I know that I am perfectly capable of doing that, I also know that I don't have a good track record of doing it consistently enough to support myself. Also, BT will have earned leave days which he will take the pay for, but he'll need to find a job soon after he gets home. While I don't anticipate him having a hard time finding a job, I do know that many returning from "over there" often do have trouble finding and keeping jobs. This doesn't even take into account that money is just tight all around these days. I am constantly reminded that, for most Americans, us included, all it takes is one thing to go wrong for them to be completely fucked. Getting ill or being injured for an extended period of time, or even just having your vehicle break down and not having the savings to repair it can lead to loss of job which can lead to loss of home. Just the economics are scary as hell.
But that isn't what I want my life to be about. Last night I was reading the 2005 commencement speech at Kenyon University by David Foster Wallace in the Best American Nonrequired Reading 2005. Here's a link if you want to read it through, which I suggest because it's really good: http://www.marginalia.org/dfw_kenyon_commencement.html His basic argument in the speech is that liberal arts educations don't actually teach you how to think, which is a cliche that many commencement speakers repeat, but what to think about:
But in all this, in wanting to take care of my family, in wanting to build an economically and emotionally stable household with my husband, in wanting to finish my degree, in all this I fear that I just won't have the strength. That's I'll start it but never continue with it (as there really is no finish in most of these things.) That if I put forward a little but can't put forward enough, I'll disappoint everyone, because that little I put forward was just a down payment on what is expected. So I'm stuck because I'm scared of failing. How completely ordinary, huh?
I guess the only thing I can do, what I am planning on doing, what I started planning on re-committing myself to doing after I read that speech, is to put one foot in front of the other and do what I can. No one realistically expects me to be perfect (except for me and I don't have realistic expectations). I have a great family who will support me when I slip, most especially when they know I am trying hard in my own right. And things that seem to big to tackle just need to be broken down into managable peices, what needs to handled first and second and so on. There's another quote that I need to remember now. (I'm sure I don't have it exactly and I'll have to come back and edit it and attribute it like a good English student.) "Don't do nothing because you can't do it all. Do something."
I guess I've done this enough times that I should know what to do. And I know that making certain commitments will get me moving, which is why I start by doing that. For example: Even though I wasn't ready to actually go back to school, I knew back in July that I needed to go back to classes in the fall, so I did the easy part of it. I enrolled in the classes. I filled out the FAFSA. By the time I had to go up to school to sort this and that out, I had already gotten the ball rolling, so I figured I might as well do the crappy stuff too, so I could get to the fun stuff (the learning, yeah, I'm a dork). So why haven't I gone to get my books yet? Classes start Monday. And I ended up going out of town at the last minute, so getting my books has been permanently postponed until Monday after my first class.
The easy answer to why I haven't gotten my school books yet is just that I'm lazy. And that my sleep schedule is very messed up right now and I'm sleeping all day, awake all night. (I blame talking to BT, who is +8 hours from me. ;) ) But the real answer has alot more to do with being scared than anything else.
If things go even partially as planned, I'm going to be entering the real, grown-up, sink or swim world here in the next couple months. It won't be terribly well-planned. And it won't be like some sitcom dream. When BT comes back to the States, I'm only really hoping for us to have enough money to get a place and to get him a vehicle, mostly because circumstances have been such that we haven't started saving until just now. (My parents aren't too keen on us living in their basement and, frankly, neither am I.) I will have a part-time job, but I will also be going to school. While I know that I am perfectly capable of doing that, I also know that I don't have a good track record of doing it consistently enough to support myself. Also, BT will have earned leave days which he will take the pay for, but he'll need to find a job soon after he gets home. While I don't anticipate him having a hard time finding a job, I do know that many returning from "over there" often do have trouble finding and keeping jobs. This doesn't even take into account that money is just tight all around these days. I am constantly reminded that, for most Americans, us included, all it takes is one thing to go wrong for them to be completely fucked. Getting ill or being injured for an extended period of time, or even just having your vehicle break down and not having the savings to repair it can lead to loss of job which can lead to loss of home. Just the economics are scary as hell.
But that isn't what I want my life to be about. Last night I was reading the 2005 commencement speech at Kenyon University by David Foster Wallace in the Best American Nonrequired Reading 2005. Here's a link if you want to read it through, which I suggest because it's really good: http://www.marginalia.org/dfw_kenyon_commencement.html His basic argument in the speech is that liberal arts educations don't actually teach you how to think, which is a cliche that many commencement speakers repeat, but what to think about:
"And I submit that this is what the real, no bullshit value of your liberal artsI am well aware that I have always feared that real, non-crazy, non-bohemian, adult life meant that you had to go through everday like the above because I've always feared all of that life is what Wallace only admits to one part involving- "boredom, routine, and petty frustration." I know that I've talked in this blog before about a temp job I had a couple years ago, where I did data entry in a cave for 40 hours a week over a couple winter months before I quit. After that job, I was scared to death that, if I ever allowed myself to live an adult life, it would be just like that. I hated how little energy I had at the end of the day to do anything more. All I felt I could do was veg out in front of the TV. Here recently, in large part because of what my family is going through and also because of being with BT, I realize how fulfilling other parts of adult life can be, parts I had also shied away from before. When I read the speech by Wallace, this section made me cry: (emphasis mine)
education is supposed to be about: how to keep from going through your
comfortable, prosperous, respectable adult life dead, unconscious, a slave to
your head and to your natural default setting of being uniquely, completely,
imperially alone day in and day out."
"But of course there are all different kinds of freedom, and the kind that isWhile at this point, I really have no desire to be a mother, I do have a huge desire to take care of my family, especially as we go through such a difficult time. And while I have reservations that this is 'woman's work' and thus tend to steer away from it the way I do cooking, I have wonderful male role models who have taught me that this just isn't true. That it is not only everyone's responsibility to do what they can for their family, it can also be something that everyone can take pride and comfort in having done.
most precious you will not hear much talk about much in the great outside world
of wanting and achieving and [unintelligible -- sounds like "displayal"]. The
really important kind of freedom involves attention and awareness and
discipline, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice
for them over and over in myriad petty, unsexy ways every day."
But in all this, in wanting to take care of my family, in wanting to build an economically and emotionally stable household with my husband, in wanting to finish my degree, in all this I fear that I just won't have the strength. That's I'll start it but never continue with it (as there really is no finish in most of these things.) That if I put forward a little but can't put forward enough, I'll disappoint everyone, because that little I put forward was just a down payment on what is expected. So I'm stuck because I'm scared of failing. How completely ordinary, huh?
I guess the only thing I can do, what I am planning on doing, what I started planning on re-committing myself to doing after I read that speech, is to put one foot in front of the other and do what I can. No one realistically expects me to be perfect (except for me and I don't have realistic expectations). I have a great family who will support me when I slip, most especially when they know I am trying hard in my own right. And things that seem to big to tackle just need to be broken down into managable peices, what needs to handled first and second and so on. There's another quote that I need to remember now. (I'm sure I don't have it exactly and I'll have to come back and edit it and attribute it like a good English student.) "Don't do nothing because you can't do it all. Do something."
Monday, July 14, 2008
Moving On- Vol. 3
Yep, Vol 3 is coming quite soon after Vol 2 but I thought it best to deal with the issues separately. Vol 2 was about talking to people about the decision, namely my grandmother because I didn't want to be the one to reveal one of the driving factors behind this decision and a part of its timeline when she didn't know. Vol. 3 is about the doubts that come creeping in and how ultimately people make the decisions about how to decide how to live their lives in the first place.
For those of you who haven't noticed, I'm an all or nothing kind of a person. I go to extremes. While I am aware of this and I have made some efforts to change it, I must admit that, for the most part, I like that I am like this. I don't always like the results or the situations I put myself in because I take extreme action but I do like this quality in myself. If nothing else, I will at least readily admit to it, to its influences in my life and my decision making, and that it isn't something I really feel like changing at this particular point in my life. Maybe someday. Probably someday. But not today.
I'll be the first to admit that the life course decisions I made last week were made on a sort of whim, during a very VERY stressful time, when I had way too much time alone with music to think about the grand scheme of my life. (Art in general, as it usually has a short period of time in which to make a large statement, tends to exaggerate things so while an artist might advocate radical change in their work, such as leaving someone at the drop of the hat in a song, in real life, even if they did leave that person, they probably put quite a bit more thought and time into it than the song implies. As Ani sings, "I just write about what I should have done/Sing what I wish I could say".) Don't get me wrong here: I'm not changing my mind or my decision. But I'm feeling more philosophical now about how people decide how to decide how to live their lives. The more time that passes since my decision, the more I can see the possibilities of the life paths I'm choosing not to take. I can see the value in each one of them and I also know that lots of people take those life paths everyday. I wonder not only how they decide which path to take, but I wonder how they decide how to decide. (Maybe it's too late for this but I'm gonna try.)
While I've never quite had the courage of my convictions, I've always thought that people should live in extreme ways: follow their hearts and their goals and their loves and put it all on the line. They shouldn't follow some pre-determined path for their lives. They shouldn't be meek little sheep. They shouldn't do something JUST because it is what is expected of them by family or friends or society. All that romantic bullshit crap. And I've gotten into lots of arguments with friends and family members as to why one should follow their heart/goals/dreams/love/whatever or they were just sell-outs and would always be unhappy. I still believe that to be true in many ways. If you have a strong desire to do something and you don't do it or you can't do it, then I do think you will always regret it and, depending on how you deal with that regret in your life, you might make yourself or your family miserable with that regret. Sometimes even just a little desire for something can haunt you until the day you die. Something you wish you'd taken the chance to do or say.
But I also know that loving blindly and blindingly isn't always best. When I look at the possibilities of where choosing a life with BT could take me, there are alot of horrible possibilities down that road. I'm not naive enough nor do I trust enough in his desire to change that I can see it going how I once did---- He pursues an Army or law enforcement career while I finish school and then write or edit or whatever from wherever we end up because of his job choice while raising a couple cute little kids that he dotes on. With him, just as with ex-T really, I see distrust, horrible fighting over money and other women and men, possibly addiction on either side of the relationship, and ultimately mutually assured destruction (or self-destruction, or both.)
But that doesn't mean that I don't want the real big true LOVE. I want to be someone's first and only choice just because they love me so much they can't stand to be without me, not just someone that I can put up with and who can put up with me while we both just work 9-5 to pay the bills and have nothing beyond that. I think every hopeless romantic artist type hates that idea of yuppie suburban hell, or what they think would be hell in any case. But it's not like I can't advocate for the positives of that lifestyle as well. When I look down that road of a possible life with TyRoy, I can see all that wonderful stability. But there is freedom there as well, as we have an open relationship, both in being with other people but also in exploring together. That possible life isn't as restrictive as it would seem on the surface either, especially because he may retire soon-ish from the career that currently dictates where he lives and for how long thus opening up the possible lives even more. Also, he doesn't want and cannot have children, so any children we would raise together would be no accident but both well-thought out and part of a time consuming adoption process. I can see that the possibilities of a life with TyRoy would be both stable and free, routine but also open to...spicyness (?). Don't know what to put there. But, at least not right now, it doesn't afford me the ability to just decide for myself where and how and when to live. Right now, I don't believe that I could commit to even the very open commitment that even this relationship with TyRoy would require.
Also, ultimately, I don't think I'm anybody's first and only and penultimate choice in a LOVE relationship. Definately not ex-T, who could never go without a girlfriend and who has always only really wanted a family and right now just wants someone because he is so desperately alone that he knows he will (hell, is) self-destruct (-ing). Not BT, despite the fact that I know he thinks he is in love with me, that I'm the love of his life, that he'll never stop loving me and that he would always chose to be with me if I wanted him no matter what his life situation. I admit that, especially right now, I think he'll probably be the love of my life because I can't imagine ever loving anyone the way that I loved him, but then again, I'm not sure I want to and I'm not sure I can. I'm not pretty sure that LOVE I want won't feel like that love did/does. And despite how I know BT feels and/or thinks he feels, I don't think I'll ever feel like I was his first, only, and penultimate choice. As for TyRoy, well, he's a tough read and, because of the heartache of his very recent divorce, I'm not sure even he knows how he feels right now. I'm probably really the same way- Even if we were each others' first, only, and penultimate choice, I don't think either of us would know it or could be sure of its truth because of what we have just gone through and/or am going through.
Fuck me. I've just spent all this time talking about how deciding your life possibilities is only about romantic entanglements and where those take you and how your life is in part decided by those. MP would say that is part of my problem- that I ONLY see my life possibilities in terms of where a romantic relationship will allow me to go and/or will take me. And that brings up the point of using your romantic relationships to decide your life's possibilities. I think that for many woman for much of history that is how we made our life decisions, if we had the luxury of being able to make decisions at all, whether just because our family told us what to do and we did it or because our class and/or economic status dictated that life was a certain way. Recently, my grandma told me that when she was 13, she had a short story published in a pulp romance magazine. She got $35 for it. (She said that it would have been $50, the real prize but they had to edit it some because of her grammar and spelling, but she was still really proud. $35 was a big deal in 1948, especially for a family as large and as poor as hers was.) But when she showed it to her mom, her mom punished her for writing that filth. She became really ashamed. Grandma told me that my mom and uncles didn't even know about that story. She only told me, I think, because she really wants me to not give up on my dreams of being a published, supported by my work author. On the other hand, while I know she must have had dreams of writing (or she wouldn't have wrote the story) or at least dreams of romance and sex (or she couldn't have written the story), her life was largely decided by marrying my grandfather and having children with him. The times when she did move far from home were to be closer to him when he was in the Army and training. While I'm not sure about this, I would bet that they moved to the city they did because their was work their for him and they could by land in the developing suburbs nearby and it was the closest city to their families. My mom's life decisions were largely lead by her romantic life, or at least by her male romantic partners as well. I think that my mom sees my generation as really the first that could make these life decisions based on what we wanted, not on who we married and what they wanted or what they did, so we should stay on birth control and make the most of our ability to have a Sex and the City lifestyle if we wanted it, or whatever lifestyle we wanted. (Yes, I know those women are quite a bit older than I am but they live in NY. It's different here in the midwest.)
But I know that it can't be that simple for men either, even though I know that men are hemmed in my different things than women. Some men really do have the wealth or the privelege or just the sheer confidence and intelligence to pursue whatever life they want- whatever career they want, whatever love they want, live in whatever part of the world they want to live in, etc. But those men really are few and far between. I'd love to be able to ask MP, and have him be able to tell me honestly, how he decided his life path, what made him chose career over the possibility of having a family, or a regular normal family. Was it just personality or family background or just that he grew to love one thing so much so that he never really found room for the other at the same time? I honestly think that most men get hemmed in by the expectations of their family on their lives, whether that be for them to fulfill (or rebel against) their father's unfilfilled dreams or to carry on a family tradition or to be the first one to really get the family out of that gutter. Sometimes it was just marrying the girl that they knocked up (or marrying the girl that they wanted to be able to have sex with, if either the girl, the boy, or both wouldn't have sex before marriage.) But I look at TyRoy and I wonder how he got to where he is and if he's happy with the life decisions he chosen or how he would change them if he could. While he seems to have been all around athletic, he focused on one sport, to the point that I think he went to Olympic trials and in the past competed against guys who are going to the Olympics. He chose the military and a specific branch, over his parents objections. What made him feel the need to serve his country in that specific branch when he could have gone to any number of prestigious civilian universities and probably had a sucessful career with more stability and probably less risk of death? I know that sometimes people just make choices because they are handed circumstances in life and they really only have one viable option or really only one best option. I understand how those decisions get made. (I also do understand that sometimes those decisions aren't REALLY well, there's only one thing you can do, but that they are usually times when doing the other thing is so incredibly difficult that very very VERY few people take the "un-viable" option.)
Once again, it might all be too late at night to really get this point accross but I want to know how people decide what they are going to use as their way to decide. How do they decide they they are going to use whatever they use (love, money, the easiest way possible, the hardest way possible, the way no one has ever done before) as their barameter for making decisions? Maybe it's just the writer in me, wanting to get into everyone's head. Maybe it's that I want humans to make sense. Maybe it's just that I want to be able to find and define my own barameter thus making it easier for me to assert that I am making the right decisions here.
Post answers if you have them.
For those of you who haven't noticed, I'm an all or nothing kind of a person. I go to extremes. While I am aware of this and I have made some efforts to change it, I must admit that, for the most part, I like that I am like this. I don't always like the results or the situations I put myself in because I take extreme action but I do like this quality in myself. If nothing else, I will at least readily admit to it, to its influences in my life and my decision making, and that it isn't something I really feel like changing at this particular point in my life. Maybe someday. Probably someday. But not today.
I'll be the first to admit that the life course decisions I made last week were made on a sort of whim, during a very VERY stressful time, when I had way too much time alone with music to think about the grand scheme of my life. (Art in general, as it usually has a short period of time in which to make a large statement, tends to exaggerate things so while an artist might advocate radical change in their work, such as leaving someone at the drop of the hat in a song, in real life, even if they did leave that person, they probably put quite a bit more thought and time into it than the song implies. As Ani sings, "I just write about what I should have done/Sing what I wish I could say".) Don't get me wrong here: I'm not changing my mind or my decision. But I'm feeling more philosophical now about how people decide how to decide how to live their lives. The more time that passes since my decision, the more I can see the possibilities of the life paths I'm choosing not to take. I can see the value in each one of them and I also know that lots of people take those life paths everyday. I wonder not only how they decide which path to take, but I wonder how they decide how to decide. (Maybe it's too late for this but I'm gonna try.)
While I've never quite had the courage of my convictions, I've always thought that people should live in extreme ways: follow their hearts and their goals and their loves and put it all on the line. They shouldn't follow some pre-determined path for their lives. They shouldn't be meek little sheep. They shouldn't do something JUST because it is what is expected of them by family or friends or society. All that romantic bullshit crap. And I've gotten into lots of arguments with friends and family members as to why one should follow their heart/goals/dreams/love/whatever or they were just sell-outs and would always be unhappy. I still believe that to be true in many ways. If you have a strong desire to do something and you don't do it or you can't do it, then I do think you will always regret it and, depending on how you deal with that regret in your life, you might make yourself or your family miserable with that regret. Sometimes even just a little desire for something can haunt you until the day you die. Something you wish you'd taken the chance to do or say.
But I also know that loving blindly and blindingly isn't always best. When I look at the possibilities of where choosing a life with BT could take me, there are alot of horrible possibilities down that road. I'm not naive enough nor do I trust enough in his desire to change that I can see it going how I once did---- He pursues an Army or law enforcement career while I finish school and then write or edit or whatever from wherever we end up because of his job choice while raising a couple cute little kids that he dotes on. With him, just as with ex-T really, I see distrust, horrible fighting over money and other women and men, possibly addiction on either side of the relationship, and ultimately mutually assured destruction (or self-destruction, or both.)
But that doesn't mean that I don't want the real big true LOVE. I want to be someone's first and only choice just because they love me so much they can't stand to be without me, not just someone that I can put up with and who can put up with me while we both just work 9-5 to pay the bills and have nothing beyond that. I think every hopeless romantic artist type hates that idea of yuppie suburban hell, or what they think would be hell in any case. But it's not like I can't advocate for the positives of that lifestyle as well. When I look down that road of a possible life with TyRoy, I can see all that wonderful stability. But there is freedom there as well, as we have an open relationship, both in being with other people but also in exploring together. That possible life isn't as restrictive as it would seem on the surface either, especially because he may retire soon-ish from the career that currently dictates where he lives and for how long thus opening up the possible lives even more. Also, he doesn't want and cannot have children, so any children we would raise together would be no accident but both well-thought out and part of a time consuming adoption process. I can see that the possibilities of a life with TyRoy would be both stable and free, routine but also open to...spicyness (?). Don't know what to put there. But, at least not right now, it doesn't afford me the ability to just decide for myself where and how and when to live. Right now, I don't believe that I could commit to even the very open commitment that even this relationship with TyRoy would require.
Also, ultimately, I don't think I'm anybody's first and only and penultimate choice in a LOVE relationship. Definately not ex-T, who could never go without a girlfriend and who has always only really wanted a family and right now just wants someone because he is so desperately alone that he knows he will (hell, is) self-destruct (-ing). Not BT, despite the fact that I know he thinks he is in love with me, that I'm the love of his life, that he'll never stop loving me and that he would always chose to be with me if I wanted him no matter what his life situation. I admit that, especially right now, I think he'll probably be the love of my life because I can't imagine ever loving anyone the way that I loved him, but then again, I'm not sure I want to and I'm not sure I can. I'm not pretty sure that LOVE I want won't feel like that love did/does. And despite how I know BT feels and/or thinks he feels, I don't think I'll ever feel like I was his first, only, and penultimate choice. As for TyRoy, well, he's a tough read and, because of the heartache of his very recent divorce, I'm not sure even he knows how he feels right now. I'm probably really the same way- Even if we were each others' first, only, and penultimate choice, I don't think either of us would know it or could be sure of its truth because of what we have just gone through and/or am going through.
Fuck me. I've just spent all this time talking about how deciding your life possibilities is only about romantic entanglements and where those take you and how your life is in part decided by those. MP would say that is part of my problem- that I ONLY see my life possibilities in terms of where a romantic relationship will allow me to go and/or will take me. And that brings up the point of using your romantic relationships to decide your life's possibilities. I think that for many woman for much of history that is how we made our life decisions, if we had the luxury of being able to make decisions at all, whether just because our family told us what to do and we did it or because our class and/or economic status dictated that life was a certain way. Recently, my grandma told me that when she was 13, she had a short story published in a pulp romance magazine. She got $35 for it. (She said that it would have been $50, the real prize but they had to edit it some because of her grammar and spelling, but she was still really proud. $35 was a big deal in 1948, especially for a family as large and as poor as hers was.) But when she showed it to her mom, her mom punished her for writing that filth. She became really ashamed. Grandma told me that my mom and uncles didn't even know about that story. She only told me, I think, because she really wants me to not give up on my dreams of being a published, supported by my work author. On the other hand, while I know she must have had dreams of writing (or she wouldn't have wrote the story) or at least dreams of romance and sex (or she couldn't have written the story), her life was largely decided by marrying my grandfather and having children with him. The times when she did move far from home were to be closer to him when he was in the Army and training. While I'm not sure about this, I would bet that they moved to the city they did because their was work their for him and they could by land in the developing suburbs nearby and it was the closest city to their families. My mom's life decisions were largely lead by her romantic life, or at least by her male romantic partners as well. I think that my mom sees my generation as really the first that could make these life decisions based on what we wanted, not on who we married and what they wanted or what they did, so we should stay on birth control and make the most of our ability to have a Sex and the City lifestyle if we wanted it, or whatever lifestyle we wanted. (Yes, I know those women are quite a bit older than I am but they live in NY. It's different here in the midwest.)
But I know that it can't be that simple for men either, even though I know that men are hemmed in my different things than women. Some men really do have the wealth or the privelege or just the sheer confidence and intelligence to pursue whatever life they want- whatever career they want, whatever love they want, live in whatever part of the world they want to live in, etc. But those men really are few and far between. I'd love to be able to ask MP, and have him be able to tell me honestly, how he decided his life path, what made him chose career over the possibility of having a family, or a regular normal family. Was it just personality or family background or just that he grew to love one thing so much so that he never really found room for the other at the same time? I honestly think that most men get hemmed in by the expectations of their family on their lives, whether that be for them to fulfill (or rebel against) their father's unfilfilled dreams or to carry on a family tradition or to be the first one to really get the family out of that gutter. Sometimes it was just marrying the girl that they knocked up (or marrying the girl that they wanted to be able to have sex with, if either the girl, the boy, or both wouldn't have sex before marriage.) But I look at TyRoy and I wonder how he got to where he is and if he's happy with the life decisions he chosen or how he would change them if he could. While he seems to have been all around athletic, he focused on one sport, to the point that I think he went to Olympic trials and in the past competed against guys who are going to the Olympics. He chose the military and a specific branch, over his parents objections. What made him feel the need to serve his country in that specific branch when he could have gone to any number of prestigious civilian universities and probably had a sucessful career with more stability and probably less risk of death? I know that sometimes people just make choices because they are handed circumstances in life and they really only have one viable option or really only one best option. I understand how those decisions get made. (I also do understand that sometimes those decisions aren't REALLY well, there's only one thing you can do, but that they are usually times when doing the other thing is so incredibly difficult that very very VERY few people take the "un-viable" option.)
Once again, it might all be too late at night to really get this point accross but I want to know how people decide what they are going to use as their way to decide. How do they decide they they are going to use whatever they use (love, money, the easiest way possible, the hardest way possible, the way no one has ever done before) as their barameter for making decisions? Maybe it's just the writer in me, wanting to get into everyone's head. Maybe it's that I want humans to make sense. Maybe it's just that I want to be able to find and define my own barameter thus making it easier for me to assert that I am making the right decisions here.
Post answers if you have them.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Moving On- Vol 1
I'm Moving On- Rascal Flats
I've dealt with my ghosts
and I've faced all my demons
Finally content with a past I regret
I've found you find strength in your moments of weakness
For once I'm at peace with myself
I have been burdened with blame,
trapped in the past for too long
I'm movin' on
I've lived in this place and I know all the faces
Each one is different but they're always the same
They mean me no harm but it's time that I face it
They'll never allow me to change
But I never dreamed home would end up where I don't belong
I'm movin' on
I'm movin' on
At last I can see life has been patiently waiting for me
And I know there's no guarantees, but I'm not alone
There comes a time in everyone's life
When all you can see are the years passing by
And I have made up my mind that those days aren't gone
I sold what I could and packed what I couldn't
Stopped to fill up on my way out of town
I've loved like I should but lived like I shouldn't
I had to lose everything to find out
Maybe forgiveness will find me somewhere down this road
I'm movin' on
I'm movin' on
I'm movin' on
A couple years ago, I was in the car with my mom when this song came on. I told her that it always made me cry because it made me think about how I always felt I had to leave to really find myself, though I never really had done it. My mom said that it made her cry because it made her thing about my uncle and how he had to leave "home" to really be the person that he needed to become. As the years have gone by, that has become more and more true for my uncle. Because of strange job circumstances, he moved around a bit and ended up settling in this po-dunk town where his (at the time) brand-new boyfriend had grown up and was also moving back to. While his boyfriend has moved a couple hours away for a much better job, my uncle decided to move even further into the boonies, living in a (very nice) mobile home on alot of acres of land, his portion of which he rents from his neighbors (the female of the couple is a co-worker). While I never would have thought when I was growing up that he would end up where he has, I can completely understand why he is so happy there. I also think that he is more himself there than he has ever been anyplace else that he's ever lived. I think that he found what so very few people find in their lives, a place where he really feels like he belongs.
When someone is seriously ill or dies, you start to think about your own mortality. We as a society seem to deal with illness and death so little and also so.... so much at a distance that it is hard to really keep that in mind. When my uncle was first diagnosed with the sarcoma last May, I remember talking to Sir about all the things that I wanted to do with my life that I never got to do, things that I always thought I had time for but that I might not. (My uncle is young, only 11 years older than me. He'll probably die before he turns 40.) Sir encouraged me to make a list (I'm a big list maker) and to do those things. But, as these things usually go, I quickly forgot and all those things fell by the wayside. Also, shortly thereafter my grandfather had a stroke and I spent my summer with my grandparents. But now I'm faced with it again. When my grandfather died, well, while I wish he hadn't, he'd also had a full life and, as they say, "it was his time." But it isn't my uncle's time and I'm damn sure that I'm going to try to make up for the time that he is going to miss out on. So, I made some decisions about what I want to do and what I don't want to do.
The first thing is something that I said to Sir and that he was going to go with me to do. Then BT was going to go. Now I don't know who will go with me. Hell, it might be more fulfilling to go alone. But I want to see my father. My biological father. I know that I want to see him. I don't know yet if I want to confront him or actually talk to him or anything but I know that I at least want to see him. I do know, however, that, even if I did confront him, I don't think that there would ever be a good enough answer for what he's done/not done. But I'm not sure that matters as much as just never having any answer at all.
Another thing I realized is that I am tired of being the girl that everyone goes to when they have no one left to go to. When I was a teenager, I was the friend that everyone called when they were in trouble. Don't get me wrong, we'd hang out but usually I'd initiate it and it would be low key (shopping at the mall, meal out, lay out by the pool), but it wasn't like these friends invited me to any of the parties that they went to with all the cool kids. But they certainly called me when their boyfriends dumped them, or their boyfriend locked them out of their own apartment while their baby was still inside with the boyfriend, or when they needed someone to drive them home from the abortion they got because their boyfriend was abusive. This trend seemed to continue with my male romantic relationships as well. Ex-J never had a girlfriend or even kissed a girl and he was 19. Granted, I'm not saying that I didn't get something out of it, mostly a very easily manipulatable boyfriend, but I'm sure I wouldn't have been his first choice either. BT had a girlfriend for over a year but they broke up just a month or so before we met. They were going to get married before he left on the deployment at first, until he decided he couldn't stand her and wanted out of the relationship without the guilt of doing the dumping. Then, low and behold, he meets me, we fall madly in love, and get married right before he leaves. Two nights ago, Ex-T, my first real boyfriend who I'm still friends with, texts me and asks me to move back to where he lives and marry him (once my divorce is final). Of course, his last girlfriend just left for jail for 3 months because of a very old drunk driving accident and some guy he owes money to is going to kill him if he doesn't pay up, so I'm sure he's re-evaluating his life as well. BUT I DON"T WANT TO BE THAT GIRL!!!!!!!!!!! I don't want to be someone's project, someone's "she'll be good enough when she changes into X". I don't want to be someone's 2nd, 3rd, or last choice. And if that means sex and friendship but no romantic relationships, well, I guess that is what it means. The last time I did get to talk to MP (after a very long absense and only because I was in a real bind) he mentioned that the same situation I was in would keep happening while I was still defining my life by the men in it. (I'm sure that the same would also hold true for a female romantic relationship.) And I know that is a big reason why he isn't currently active in my life. So, big decision 2 is to try to break that cycle.
Another big decision I've made is that I want to, quite literally, move on. Let me go back a second. When I was growing up, I idolized my uncle and I thought he was the HEIGHT of cosmopolitan style. He always had mid-priced, newish cars in good condition. He was the first one of us to go to college. He had a good paying job. He listened to good pop and college rock music. And he shopped at Jeans West, which was the epitomy of high mall fashion at the time. (Think The Fashionable Male in Mallrats.) So I always thought that he would get out of the suburb that my grandparents built their house in and where we all grew up. But as I grew older, I noticed that he never really left. Once he got married, they moved about 15 minutes away from my grandparents' house but they were still in the same suburb. One night while talking on the phone, my uncle told me that he had resigned himself to the fact that he was stay there in that suburb until my grandparents both passed (so that he could be sure they were well taken care of) and then he would start his real life. All I could think of was this song:
Everywhere- Tim McGraw
We were born in this little town
Growin' up I was counting down
Every single day till we made our get-away
But you said you could never see yourself
Trying to make a life anywhere else
This would be your home and I was on my own
But ever since we said good-bye
I've been out here on the wind
Baby you would be surprised
All the places you have been
I've seen you in
Albuquerque waitin' out a blizzard
Arizona dancin' 'cross the desert
Watchin' the sun set in Monterey
Girl I swear just the other day you were
Down in Georgia pickin' them peaches
In Carolina barefoot on the beaches
No matter where you choose to be
In my heart I'll always see you
Everywhere
Now days
When I'm passin' through
The conversation always turns to you
I hear you're doin' fine
Livin' out by the county line
Got a man that's home every night
a couple of kids and the kind of life
That you want to lead
Guess you could say the same for me
Cause you and I made our choices
All those years ago
Still I know I'll hear your voice
And see you down the road
Maybe in Oklahoma drivin' 'cross the prairie
In Dallas, Texas isn't that where we
Always said we would like to try
Never did so maybe that's why you're on
Every highway just beyond the high-beams
Right beside me in all of my sweet dreams
No matter where you choose to be
In my heart I'll always see you in
Albuquerque waitin' out a blizzard
Arizona dancin' 'cross the desert
Watchin' the sun set in Monterey
Girl I swear just the other day you were
Down in Georgia pickin' them peaches
In Carolina barefoot on the beaches
No matter where you choose to be
In my heart I'll always see you
Everywhere
At that point in my life, I was certain that I was going to be the next (female) Kevin Smith, making my own indie movies. I was going to go to college up in Chicago at an art school. But things didn't quite turn out the way either my uncle or I planned. He moved sooner than he planned and I haven't left the Midwest yet. YET. That's part of the decision. I have a year left of school to get my BA. And my uncle has 12-18 months. After he's gone, I'm gone too. On my own. I have a feeling that BT and/or Ex-T would gladly follow me wherever I wanted to go. And TyRoy will probably be leaving at that same time for another military posting or to get a further degree to get a higher rank. But I seriously doubt that I'll be going with any of them. I want to see places, LIVE places, move places where I don't really know anyone all by myself. And I want to see all the places that my uncle didn't get to, even if they weren't places that he particularly wanted to see. Until then, I'm going to work my ass off to finish school, save money for all this moving, and spend as much time as I can with my family.
I've dealt with my ghosts
and I've faced all my demons
Finally content with a past I regret
I've found you find strength in your moments of weakness
For once I'm at peace with myself
I have been burdened with blame,
trapped in the past for too long
I'm movin' on
I've lived in this place and I know all the faces
Each one is different but they're always the same
They mean me no harm but it's time that I face it
They'll never allow me to change
But I never dreamed home would end up where I don't belong
I'm movin' on
I'm movin' on
At last I can see life has been patiently waiting for me
And I know there's no guarantees, but I'm not alone
There comes a time in everyone's life
When all you can see are the years passing by
And I have made up my mind that those days aren't gone
I sold what I could and packed what I couldn't
Stopped to fill up on my way out of town
I've loved like I should but lived like I shouldn't
I had to lose everything to find out
Maybe forgiveness will find me somewhere down this road
I'm movin' on
I'm movin' on
I'm movin' on
A couple years ago, I was in the car with my mom when this song came on. I told her that it always made me cry because it made me think about how I always felt I had to leave to really find myself, though I never really had done it. My mom said that it made her cry because it made her thing about my uncle and how he had to leave "home" to really be the person that he needed to become. As the years have gone by, that has become more and more true for my uncle. Because of strange job circumstances, he moved around a bit and ended up settling in this po-dunk town where his (at the time) brand-new boyfriend had grown up and was also moving back to. While his boyfriend has moved a couple hours away for a much better job, my uncle decided to move even further into the boonies, living in a (very nice) mobile home on alot of acres of land, his portion of which he rents from his neighbors (the female of the couple is a co-worker). While I never would have thought when I was growing up that he would end up where he has, I can completely understand why he is so happy there. I also think that he is more himself there than he has ever been anyplace else that he's ever lived. I think that he found what so very few people find in their lives, a place where he really feels like he belongs.
When someone is seriously ill or dies, you start to think about your own mortality. We as a society seem to deal with illness and death so little and also so.... so much at a distance that it is hard to really keep that in mind. When my uncle was first diagnosed with the sarcoma last May, I remember talking to Sir about all the things that I wanted to do with my life that I never got to do, things that I always thought I had time for but that I might not. (My uncle is young, only 11 years older than me. He'll probably die before he turns 40.) Sir encouraged me to make a list (I'm a big list maker) and to do those things. But, as these things usually go, I quickly forgot and all those things fell by the wayside. Also, shortly thereafter my grandfather had a stroke and I spent my summer with my grandparents. But now I'm faced with it again. When my grandfather died, well, while I wish he hadn't, he'd also had a full life and, as they say, "it was his time." But it isn't my uncle's time and I'm damn sure that I'm going to try to make up for the time that he is going to miss out on. So, I made some decisions about what I want to do and what I don't want to do.
The first thing is something that I said to Sir and that he was going to go with me to do. Then BT was going to go. Now I don't know who will go with me. Hell, it might be more fulfilling to go alone. But I want to see my father. My biological father. I know that I want to see him. I don't know yet if I want to confront him or actually talk to him or anything but I know that I at least want to see him. I do know, however, that, even if I did confront him, I don't think that there would ever be a good enough answer for what he's done/not done. But I'm not sure that matters as much as just never having any answer at all.
Another thing I realized is that I am tired of being the girl that everyone goes to when they have no one left to go to. When I was a teenager, I was the friend that everyone called when they were in trouble. Don't get me wrong, we'd hang out but usually I'd initiate it and it would be low key (shopping at the mall, meal out, lay out by the pool), but it wasn't like these friends invited me to any of the parties that they went to with all the cool kids. But they certainly called me when their boyfriends dumped them, or their boyfriend locked them out of their own apartment while their baby was still inside with the boyfriend, or when they needed someone to drive them home from the abortion they got because their boyfriend was abusive. This trend seemed to continue with my male romantic relationships as well. Ex-J never had a girlfriend or even kissed a girl and he was 19. Granted, I'm not saying that I didn't get something out of it, mostly a very easily manipulatable boyfriend, but I'm sure I wouldn't have been his first choice either. BT had a girlfriend for over a year but they broke up just a month or so before we met. They were going to get married before he left on the deployment at first, until he decided he couldn't stand her and wanted out of the relationship without the guilt of doing the dumping. Then, low and behold, he meets me, we fall madly in love, and get married right before he leaves. Two nights ago, Ex-T, my first real boyfriend who I'm still friends with, texts me and asks me to move back to where he lives and marry him (once my divorce is final). Of course, his last girlfriend just left for jail for 3 months because of a very old drunk driving accident and some guy he owes money to is going to kill him if he doesn't pay up, so I'm sure he's re-evaluating his life as well. BUT I DON"T WANT TO BE THAT GIRL!!!!!!!!!!! I don't want to be someone's project, someone's "she'll be good enough when she changes into X". I don't want to be someone's 2nd, 3rd, or last choice. And if that means sex and friendship but no romantic relationships, well, I guess that is what it means. The last time I did get to talk to MP (after a very long absense and only because I was in a real bind) he mentioned that the same situation I was in would keep happening while I was still defining my life by the men in it. (I'm sure that the same would also hold true for a female romantic relationship.) And I know that is a big reason why he isn't currently active in my life. So, big decision 2 is to try to break that cycle.
Another big decision I've made is that I want to, quite literally, move on. Let me go back a second. When I was growing up, I idolized my uncle and I thought he was the HEIGHT of cosmopolitan style. He always had mid-priced, newish cars in good condition. He was the first one of us to go to college. He had a good paying job. He listened to good pop and college rock music. And he shopped at Jeans West, which was the epitomy of high mall fashion at the time. (Think The Fashionable Male in Mallrats.) So I always thought that he would get out of the suburb that my grandparents built their house in and where we all grew up. But as I grew older, I noticed that he never really left. Once he got married, they moved about 15 minutes away from my grandparents' house but they were still in the same suburb. One night while talking on the phone, my uncle told me that he had resigned himself to the fact that he was stay there in that suburb until my grandparents both passed (so that he could be sure they were well taken care of) and then he would start his real life. All I could think of was this song:
Everywhere- Tim McGraw
We were born in this little town
Growin' up I was counting down
Every single day till we made our get-away
But you said you could never see yourself
Trying to make a life anywhere else
This would be your home and I was on my own
But ever since we said good-bye
I've been out here on the wind
Baby you would be surprised
All the places you have been
I've seen you in
Albuquerque waitin' out a blizzard
Arizona dancin' 'cross the desert
Watchin' the sun set in Monterey
Girl I swear just the other day you were
Down in Georgia pickin' them peaches
In Carolina barefoot on the beaches
No matter where you choose to be
In my heart I'll always see you
Everywhere
Now days
When I'm passin' through
The conversation always turns to you
I hear you're doin' fine
Livin' out by the county line
Got a man that's home every night
a couple of kids and the kind of life
That you want to lead
Guess you could say the same for me
Cause you and I made our choices
All those years ago
Still I know I'll hear your voice
And see you down the road
Maybe in Oklahoma drivin' 'cross the prairie
In Dallas, Texas isn't that where we
Always said we would like to try
Never did so maybe that's why you're on
Every highway just beyond the high-beams
Right beside me in all of my sweet dreams
No matter where you choose to be
In my heart I'll always see you in
Albuquerque waitin' out a blizzard
Arizona dancin' 'cross the desert
Watchin' the sun set in Monterey
Girl I swear just the other day you were
Down in Georgia pickin' them peaches
In Carolina barefoot on the beaches
No matter where you choose to be
In my heart I'll always see you
Everywhere
At that point in my life, I was certain that I was going to be the next (female) Kevin Smith, making my own indie movies. I was going to go to college up in Chicago at an art school. But things didn't quite turn out the way either my uncle or I planned. He moved sooner than he planned and I haven't left the Midwest yet. YET. That's part of the decision. I have a year left of school to get my BA. And my uncle has 12-18 months. After he's gone, I'm gone too. On my own. I have a feeling that BT and/or Ex-T would gladly follow me wherever I wanted to go. And TyRoy will probably be leaving at that same time for another military posting or to get a further degree to get a higher rank. But I seriously doubt that I'll be going with any of them. I want to see places, LIVE places, move places where I don't really know anyone all by myself. And I want to see all the places that my uncle didn't get to, even if they weren't places that he particularly wanted to see. Until then, I'm going to work my ass off to finish school, save money for all this moving, and spend as much time as I can with my family.
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