I’ve Been Pondering

About my Mom in law.  It has been a really difficult adjustment, especially for me, apparently, since I do most of the caretaking.  I have to concentrate on not feeling any resentment.  I figure now is the time to get close to her, learn about her life, but she won’t say much more than they “didn’t have much” and for a time lived on the road with all the Oakies.  When I ask her for details she says she doesn’t remember.  Why don’t I believe her?

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I don’t know how to elicit any sort of conversation.  Everything is OK, or Fine.  Anywhere I want to eat is fine.  Whichever movie, I don’t care.  She seems to have a terribly limited vocabulary and sometimes I think she’s just plain ignorant.

I wonder why the things she does are annoying to me.  And not just to me, the whole family agrees that she has some weird habits.  Yet which of us do not?  There are things my husband does that annoy me no end (that’s another blog).  I’m sure I annoy people as well.  So why is it so easy to judge Mom as having a limited vocabulary, sneaky habits, and limited intelligence?  Is it really to put ourselves above someone else?

I think I’m just being observational and distant.  Some people may think I am cold.  I often think so myself.  I guess I want Mom to share with me so I feel some sort of bond.  A bond she’s keeping away.  I feel bad for her, having lost two husbands, ailing son and dying daughter.  I wonder what keeps her going.  If she had a problem today that could be fixed with invasive surgery tomorrow, she’d do it.

I tease my husband that since she has an implanted defibrillator, she’ll never die.  It’ll just keep zapping her heart back into rhythm.   Of course I don’t mean it.  Would never wish her ill, but the thought of her death does eat at me.  Which of us will find her dead one morning?  If she goes into a major heart attack, should we call 911?  I know she would want us to, but I wouldn’t want her to spend her last moments in a hospital bed with all sorts of tubes and such.  But knowing she would want every measure taken, I suppose the decision has already been made.

I do what I can to spend time with her, as difficult (and let’s just say it–boring) to be around her for long.  Then I give myself a mental smack to the forehead for being such a twit.  I would like my last years to be quiet and worry free, it’s the least I can do for someone her.  So I endure long silent car rides, and interminable lunches, and disaster updates on the hour, and promise myself I will not develop any (more) goofy habits, and always be interesting, or at least interested.

Please Help Find Nichole

Reblogged from Guapola:

Getting Better

Things have begun to improve.  For one, I am approved to receive unemployment benefits while I look for work!  Yay!  Some income!!  For another, I have started to remove myself from the room when my family begins to argue.  It’s odd that I never noticed until recently, that every conversation in my house is generally a debate.  Husband says the sky is blue as ice, and Son will explain how it’s not really blue as ice, as ice merely reflects the sky….Almost all conversations are like this.  An argument where both want to be right.  Throw grandson in the mix–he’s a compulsive liar (I truly love him, though).  I never knew there was such a thing, but everything from him is a story.  Usually a fantastical one where he lands on Mars as some sort of hero.  He just doesn’t seem to have a grasp of what is true and what is not. 

So I’ve been spending a lot less time with my family, which has oddly, displaced a lot of my stress and anxiety.  I try to provide a little more emotional distance between my moods and the moods of the rest of my family (bi-polar drug addict son; narcissistic husband, and ADHD grandson).  Sometimes that makes me very sad.  I have to wonder, do I need them as much as they need me?  Is spending most of my time away from my family good for us as a unit?    But why should I spend time with them, when all they do is argue if a movie came out in 1970 or 1980.  No one really talks to me; more they talk AT me.  The only real conversations I have are with my shrink.  Now how can that not make you sad?

I’d love for things to be different.  I fantasize about running away.  Maybe just for a few months.  Maybe show them what life would be like without me.  Maybe I’d be a bit more appreciated when I came back.  Of course I know they love me, and I them.  But there are times I wonder is this all there is to life?  Should I demand more?  Should I continue to practice the art of acceptance?

It’s moment to moment, but the content moments are becoming more frequent.  I think there is acceptance in my future.  Maybe I’ll be there by the time I’m 60?

I Wish

I wish I was working.  I wish I wasn’t going to lose my house.  I wish I never bought the house.  I wish my doctor would write a letter releasing me from DI.  I wish I hadn’t freaked out and left my last job. I wish I knew what to do.  I wish.

But wishes are for children blowing the fluff from a dandelion.  Wishing doesn’t help me prepare some sort of plan to become gainfully employed despite the world’s efforts to keep me from it.  You’d think 25 years experience would be enough, but it’s not.  They still want you to have a degree.  I did have someone contact me about working, but when I called all they were doing was trying to push you to go to school.  Weird.  Why place an ad that looks like a job ad, only to try to sell me a degree?  I should’ve applied for the job at the funeral home.  Seems stupid to me now that I didn’t.  Why is it only stupid in retrospect?  Why wasn’t it a stupid thought when the job was available? 

I’d love to do something other than secretarial work, but I don’t know how to find other work.  I did answer a couple of ads for bakery workers, shelf stocking for Kellogg’s, grocery store clerk.  But my skills don’t seem to translate to that type of work.  So, today I am going to try to figure out a better way to sell my skills.  I’m open to suggestions, but I’m starting with doing my resume over in a different format.  First I have to figure out what that format is.

This is my life now.  A constant worry about money, and I kick myself everyday for the stupid choices I have made.  I wish it could be different.  I’m trying to change things, but it feels like I’m failing.  Another thing to try to accomplish today is call a debt counselor for an appointment.

I wish my life were different.  I wish I could change it.  It seems all I can do is try, but what happens when trying is not enough?

Disappointment

Horton Hears a Who

Is this it?  Is this the sum total of my life?  I (sort of) own a home.  I complain to husband about the kids, just like Mom did.  I argue politics on Facebook.  Grandpa argued in his barber shop.  I shop at Ebay instead of make my own clothes as grandma did, but I might as well have.  See–nothing changes.  I can’t help but feel disappointed at life in general.  You know that feeling you get going to a movie you’ve heard nothing but good about, it’s a blockbuster, it’s award winning.  And then you go and well, it’s not all it had been hyped to be. 

Sorry I’m a bit rambly.

What I’m getting at is we are our parents, no matter our views on god or presidents–we’ll argue loud and long with the opposition, just as the opposition does to us.  Everyone wants the same thing, basically: leave me alone in my little world stranger.  There will always be an Us and Them mentality, just as there has always been.  We’ll argue god just as vehemently as our predecessors during the Inquisition. 

The Caveman did what he could to stay alive, he bonded with a group,.  Once they were a group, they needed a leader, and the arguing politics began.

The thing is, I’m not likely to change anyone’s mind during a discussion.  So why are we compelled to argue our point?  I can turn blue about Obama, but the Bush guy just won’t give in.  These arguments “do not further”–they don’t serve any useful purpose.  So I’ve been off the net for several days.  So if these passionate arguments don’t change my mind, what are the chances the other guy will?

And it’s been like this for all eternity.  We do and say the same things our parents did.  Oh, maybe not the same things, but in general.  So I gotta wonder–is this all there is?  A house nearing foreclosure, adjusting to major life changes, that are hard, but you’ve been beat down before, and got through it, you know you’ll get through it this time too.

It’s my turn to as The Question:  why am I here?

The whole family.

 

Is this all I was supposed to do?  I didn’t influence politics arguing with my neighbor, I didn’t change the world by supporting peace movements.  Nothing I did or didn’t due caused my son to be an addict.  I can’t stop it from happening any more than my dad could stop me from having sex at age 17.  So why am I here?  What have I done that required my presence on this planet at this time?  Am I to run away to Paris and become a famous painter?  Or am I doomed to be just like my mom in law–a lonely old lady shuffling around with nothing to do, and all the time in the world to do it. 

It seems that if I struggled this hard just to reach 50, what’s my incentive now to keep going?  I know there is no heaven beyond this life.  I’ll just be dead, like any other once living thing.  I have a family, they would miss me terribly, but they’d get through it. Like everything else, you get through it and go on, because there is nothing else to do except “rebuild” and start again.  Do I quit or go on?  that is the eternal question.  I’m just not sure sometimes if the pain is really worth it. 

Going forward is the tough part, the part requiring your active participation in your life.  Running away to Paris sounds pretty good.  Is that the coward’s way out?  Would it be right to leave my family and start a new life?  Would that make me happy? Would I be happy as I imagine, with friends around my table sharing wine?  Or would I be sad and lonely because I still couldn’t change who I am?   Is happiness not all it’s jacked up to be?  Maybe this is happy and I just don’t know it. 

What purpose did I serve?  Why am I here?  What was I supposed to do?  Did I do it?  If it’s just to live a mediocre life in the suburbs like everyone else?  There’s billions of people on this planet doing exactly the same thing I do.  There is no difference once you let go of the idea that I am Right.  And if by chance I touched a person so that they will remember me all their life, I would sure like to know.

What About Me?

Well, I’ve had a few interviews and the biggest thing I learned is that only one pair of slacks currently fit!  Yikes, I knew I had gained weight, I could see it, but I didn’t realize I was continuing to gain!  When you’re poor though, you do what you have to: diet and exercise until your pants fit…can’t afford to buy new clothes right now.  My interview yesterday seemed to go well, but I didn’t get the job.  I didn’t really want this particular job, but I’m willing to take what is offered at this point.  Even a temp job.

I saw my neurologist last week and basically begged her to give me a letter releasing me from disability, but I haven’t received a letter from her yet.  She said as soon as she had my final ok (which I gave her last Thursday) she’d have the letter turned around in 24 hours.  Just got today’s mail, and it’s not there.  CRAP!  My house is moments from foreclosure, and I’m about to start missing credit cards and my HOA payments unless I am able to collect unemployment (or a job) immediately. 

Sometimes I truly hate my life, though I realize where I am right now is because of decisions I made along the way.  Wrong decisions it seems.  Like feeling I had to retire in 2011, and truly believing I was severely disabled.  Stupid.  Stupid decisions it seems now.  But how do you make the right decisions when you are trying to live in the moment and let the future take care of itself?  Not that I was always living in the Now, but I did when I was younger.  I think all young people live in the Now.

When did my decisions go wrong? Should I have married later?  Married someone else?  Not had children?  Should I have divorced 5 years ago?  Should I divorce now?  I can’t see myself with anyone else, so that seems like a no.  But there are definitely moments where I think I should.  I don’t just want to divorce my husband, but my entire family.  Maybe I’m just cold-hearted.  Maybe I expect too much from them.  I try not to expect anything, but unfortunately, that’s usually what I get…nothing.

Still, the depression is finally lifting–I hope permanently.  Depression is so draining, sucking the joy out of the day.  The sun is dim even on the brightest summer day.  Colors muted.  People ugly and unfriendly.  Life feels like a battle.  But lately I’ve had a little energy, and some motivation.  I’ve been exercising more regularly for the last two weeks, and getting better with sticking to it.  I feel pretty optimistic, though realistic enough to realize I am still in deep doo-doo financially and it’s going to take years to recover from this latest blunder.

Mom went to visit friends for the weekend, and boy was that nice!  I think I figured out why it has been so hard since she moved in…she’s another one that needs things from me, and gives nothing in return.  She’s always nice and considerate if she needs me to take her somewhere, but often she asks at inopportune times.  Like asking me to take her to the back last Thursday, as I was on my way out the door to the doctor, which is an hour and half away.  I don’t schedule anything else when I see my neuro…the trip to and from her office is draining.  I left the house at 9:30 a.m. for a 10:50 appointment, arriving at 10:40.  I didn’t see the doctor until 11:45.  Another hour home, except today there’s an accident, so my drive took 2 hours.  I finally got home around 2:00p.m.  She practically met me at the door with her purse in hand, expecting I’d jump right back in my car and take her to the bank.  She wanted money for her weekend with her friends.  She couldn’t wait until Friday?  She wasn’t going anywhere until Saturday afternoon.  Thankfully, Son took her to the bank for me.  I constantly tell myself “she’s three years old” because she acts like a child, expecting everyone to do for her things she should be able to do herself.  I know it’s because apparently her husband catered to her, but she’s got to realize I won’t, and shouldn’t have to, that I have lots of responsibilities.

That’s the stuff that eats me…no one seems to consider my feelings.  Husband does the dishes one night a month, and expects me to thank him for doing it.  I vacuum, clean the bathrooms, take out the trash and recycling, run errands, make appointments, tend to the banking, and no one says thanks to me.  Is it like this in every household?  Do I expect too much?  It doesn’t seem like much to ask for, a little consideration for me and my needs?  I feel like my needs and desires are ignored.  I’ve been trying to become more forceful and more vocal about my displeasure, but that just seems to disrupt the household.  Husband likes to ask me what’s wrong, but if I tell him, it still doesn’t change, so why go through the motions, right?

OK, that’s my Me rant for today.  It’s all out, and time for me to do things.  I’ve got to fax more paperwork to the bank, and pick up some prescriptions, then stop at the grocery for a few things (which usually turns into $80 worth of a “few things”).  Maybe being outside will cheer me up. Maybe I will find a suitcase full of money?  My luck I’d bend over to pick it up and get hit by a truck. (LOL)

Still trying to catch up on my reading.  Thanks for sticking with me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In Appreciation

I’ve been absent.  I hope you used that time wisely.  I have tried to.  It has been really rough the past several months.  I appreciate all of you who took the time to read my posts, and thought enough to respond to me.  I am so thankful for my fellow bloggers.  If only there were more people like you in the world.  I am behind in my reading or your blogs, and can’t catch up, but I will try to get here more frequently soon–though I hope a job opportunity is the only reason I post less and read less.  You guys deserve to be read!