Sometimes, during this sorry summer and in this sorry world, it can be just nice to immerse oneself totally in something. Got to do that for six hours today - that's what it took to read the new Harry Potter, the last one. It was excellent, real page turner and everything I could have hoped for in a final novel. Should have drawn it out over a couple of days, but I was worried about people spoiling it and such and didn't want to have to not watch the news or read paper for a few days.
People are sad that it is the last of the series, but really, there are new fantasy series coming every day. It is nice to see one finished so I can find a new author, get into a new world. Rowlings is a lovely author though, hope she goes on to invent more excellent worlds to be consumed. Ah, well, back to my regularly scheduled life.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Get me out of this loony bin!
Actual conversation with the MIL, word for word:
She seeks me out in the kitchen after I'd been gone all day and was making myself a cup of tea.
MIL "It was kinda dark today, you know, got kinda dark at times. But then sometimes the sun would come out."
I look out the window at the blue sky dotted with puffy white clouds.
"Hmm," I say noncommittally.
MIL, "I mean, sometimes it was sunny, but a lot of the time it was dark inside."
I stare at her wondering where this is going.
"I don't think it rained, though," she adds.
I am incredulous. "No, there are no rain clouds in the sky," I tell her. "It is actually a beautiful day out."
"Oh, oh yeah, I didn't think it had rained," she said. "But it would get dark sometimes, like it might rain. But it didn't rain."
"Yes, there are clouds in the sky that the sun goes behind," I say, wondering if I was going insane myself to be holding such a conversation. My brain was thinking about oozing out my ears.
"But sometimes the sun would come out," the MIL stated.
"Yes," I said wearly, "It'll do that."
"Yeah." She agreed and went into the living room.
She seeks me out in the kitchen after I'd been gone all day and was making myself a cup of tea.
MIL "It was kinda dark today, you know, got kinda dark at times. But then sometimes the sun would come out."
I look out the window at the blue sky dotted with puffy white clouds.
"Hmm," I say noncommittally.
MIL, "I mean, sometimes it was sunny, but a lot of the time it was dark inside."
I stare at her wondering where this is going.
"I don't think it rained, though," she adds.
I am incredulous. "No, there are no rain clouds in the sky," I tell her. "It is actually a beautiful day out."
"Oh, oh yeah, I didn't think it had rained," she said. "But it would get dark sometimes, like it might rain. But it didn't rain."
"Yes, there are clouds in the sky that the sun goes behind," I say, wondering if I was going insane myself to be holding such a conversation. My brain was thinking about oozing out my ears.
"But sometimes the sun would come out," the MIL stated.
"Yes," I said wearly, "It'll do that."
"Yeah." She agreed and went into the living room.
Monday, July 09, 2007
Drowning
Dragging through today. I am about as depressed today, the second week of July, as I usually am in October. Not a good thing. Trying to do things to make myself feel better - getting in shape, lifting weights. It just doesn’t seem to be working.
I don’t know what to do. I don't know who I am anymore. I don't know who I need to be to survive. I'm not sure I like the person I need to be to survive and live the life I want. I've always thought I was a generous person. I've always had an empathetic sense of knowing people's needs of being able to sense and feel and create comfort for people. I've felt good, knowing I can be a shoulder to cry on, to alleviate people's emotional distress. But sometimes I sense that a person's needs will eat me alive. That they want more than I can give and still remain a whole, healthy person. I remember in high school trying to help a girl like that and only succeeding in drawing myself down with her. Since then I've recognized the people who would suck me dry and avoided them. They aren't so much emotional vampires as they are sinkholes, quicksand sucking in and never giving back. Now I'm living with a sinkhole and I fell myself drowning but I don't know how to save myself. Just being in the same room with her, just living in the same house is using all my emotional energy and I have nothing left for the people I actually care about, and certainly nothing left for myself. And it is horrifying to me because it isn't anything she does, isn't anything she says. She is perfectly placid, unlike how the father-in-law was. She doesn't actively do things to depress me - it is something about her energy or lack of that draws off my own and I can't seem to fight it. I want to cry all day, I want to sleep until summer ends. I've changed everything I can about the house to try to make things tolerable and they just aren't, really.
But what other choice do I have, other than endure? I love my husband - as much of a pain in the ass as he can be. I really do - when we are alone, just talking or making love, those are wonderful times. I love my house. The woman is a widow, her husband just six months dead and she has emotional and mental problems - I just can't kick her out and still have self-respect. I never thought I'd wish the father-in-law alive - but I only had to endure two weeks of his shit once a year. Now it is an emotional sink-hole for twenty-five years. I don't know how to survive this.
I don’t know what to do. I don't know who I am anymore. I don't know who I need to be to survive. I'm not sure I like the person I need to be to survive and live the life I want. I've always thought I was a generous person. I've always had an empathetic sense of knowing people's needs of being able to sense and feel and create comfort for people. I've felt good, knowing I can be a shoulder to cry on, to alleviate people's emotional distress. But sometimes I sense that a person's needs will eat me alive. That they want more than I can give and still remain a whole, healthy person. I remember in high school trying to help a girl like that and only succeeding in drawing myself down with her. Since then I've recognized the people who would suck me dry and avoided them. They aren't so much emotional vampires as they are sinkholes, quicksand sucking in and never giving back. Now I'm living with a sinkhole and I fell myself drowning but I don't know how to save myself. Just being in the same room with her, just living in the same house is using all my emotional energy and I have nothing left for the people I actually care about, and certainly nothing left for myself. And it is horrifying to me because it isn't anything she does, isn't anything she says. She is perfectly placid, unlike how the father-in-law was. She doesn't actively do things to depress me - it is something about her energy or lack of that draws off my own and I can't seem to fight it. I want to cry all day, I want to sleep until summer ends. I've changed everything I can about the house to try to make things tolerable and they just aren't, really.
But what other choice do I have, other than endure? I love my husband - as much of a pain in the ass as he can be. I really do - when we are alone, just talking or making love, those are wonderful times. I love my house. The woman is a widow, her husband just six months dead and she has emotional and mental problems - I just can't kick her out and still have self-respect. I never thought I'd wish the father-in-law alive - but I only had to endure two weeks of his shit once a year. Now it is an emotional sink-hole for twenty-five years. I don't know how to survive this.
Saturday, July 07, 2007
sigh
Went for a walk with the hubbie last night, which was good because I was bursting with pent up irritation. But towards the end of the walk he depressed the hell out of me by saying as a kid he always needed an answer to the question "what do I have to look forward to" before he went to bed, other wise he'd be depressed. But that is a terrible question to ask when you are already a bit depressed, because all you can see is more of the same. What do I have to look forward to right now? 25 years of this - taking care of my MIL until she finally kicks the can. Or divorcing my husband and living below the poverty level if I don't want to get old before my time.
B. said he felt old - and that is exactly what the MIL makes us feel. Dull, old, depressed. As sad as it sounds, being around the MIL is depressing because she does nothing, she affects no change on her environment, she is static, passive, even her voice is slurred and slow - dulled. I've never met someone with less curiosity for the world around her. It is very, very sad. How can you live life without a sense of adventure? How can you be so afraid of the world that you flinch when the phone rings as though you know it won't be someone you want to talk to? She has gone through life attempting to protect herself from every eventuality - you can see it by the way she swaddles herself before she ever walks out the door. For a five minute walk she wears sunscreen, bug spray, a coat, a sun hat, heavy shoes, a knee brace,long pants, and she carries a water bottle. She won't sit out on the picnic table because she got bit by a mosquito the first day she was here. She has spent her whole life in risk-avoidance and she will end up exactly the same way the rest of us will - dead. We all die and no amount of sunscreen or bug spray is going to make us immortal.
My mom pointed out an obituary to me while I was at her house. The 84-year-old woman was on a cruise in Alaska when her heart gave out. "That's the way I want to go," Mom said. "Not in a nursing home at age 95 just waiting to die." Yup, Mom, me too. Taking risks is a part of living our lives. To swaddle yourself up and stay in only your own four walls all your life means you arrive at death never having lived. People tell me that I will never have a full life if I don't have kids, but the MIL proves that having kids doesn't make a full life. A sense of adventure, a willingness to take those chances when they come at you, the ability to see the world as a fascinating and fantastic place with mindboggling diversity - that gives a fulfilled life. The rest is just adding to the wonder.
B. said he felt old - and that is exactly what the MIL makes us feel. Dull, old, depressed. As sad as it sounds, being around the MIL is depressing because she does nothing, she affects no change on her environment, she is static, passive, even her voice is slurred and slow - dulled. I've never met someone with less curiosity for the world around her. It is very, very sad. How can you live life without a sense of adventure? How can you be so afraid of the world that you flinch when the phone rings as though you know it won't be someone you want to talk to? She has gone through life attempting to protect herself from every eventuality - you can see it by the way she swaddles herself before she ever walks out the door. For a five minute walk she wears sunscreen, bug spray, a coat, a sun hat, heavy shoes, a knee brace,long pants, and she carries a water bottle. She won't sit out on the picnic table because she got bit by a mosquito the first day she was here. She has spent her whole life in risk-avoidance and she will end up exactly the same way the rest of us will - dead. We all die and no amount of sunscreen or bug spray is going to make us immortal.
My mom pointed out an obituary to me while I was at her house. The 84-year-old woman was on a cruise in Alaska when her heart gave out. "That's the way I want to go," Mom said. "Not in a nursing home at age 95 just waiting to die." Yup, Mom, me too. Taking risks is a part of living our lives. To swaddle yourself up and stay in only your own four walls all your life means you arrive at death never having lived. People tell me that I will never have a full life if I don't have kids, but the MIL proves that having kids doesn't make a full life. A sense of adventure, a willingness to take those chances when they come at you, the ability to see the world as a fascinating and fantastic place with mindboggling diversity - that gives a fulfilled life. The rest is just adding to the wonder.
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