...It must be the top; I crawled too far to get here for it to reasonably be anythng else.
Yeech. Something's laid holt of me, possibly just too much Irish butter on too many sesame lavosh crackers.
Whatever it was, I made an early exit from Family Thanksgiving* with a queasy tummy; felt a little better when I reached Broad Ripple, so I dropped in at the BlogMeet and no sooner had I sat down there than my innards went adrift again.
So I made the trek to Roseholme Cottage, said Hi to Tam, did what needed doing, picked up a book and feel asleep on the couch. 1700ish by then. I was awakened about 2000 by Tam, who suggested I might wanna head off to my own room; stumbled in there and promptly zonked out again, totally out 'til the alarms screamed me most reluctantly awake at 0600 this fine morning and I clawed my way though blear and blankets into what passes for day, though not yet light.
I'm gonna go take a vitamin. It might help!
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* Of all the things I regret, having been estranged from my family for the better part of a decade is up at the top. Long dull story that includes trite tidbits like dropping out of college, pursuing unsuitable career in unstable biz (radio), etc.; details don't matter. Once you've been away long enough, no matter how much you love 'em, the skein of shared understanding, custom and habit is broken and it's not ever comin' back; you're always half a step behind, lacking context, never quite connected. Try'n avoid that if it ever comes up in your life. It's no damn fun.
i know those rumbles all too well. hope you're feeling better!
ReplyDeleteRe: family estrangement. Don't be too hard on yourself. As I not so jokingly say, I come from the original dysfunctional family. Sort of TV "Dallas" and "Falcon Crest" meet the movie "Deliverance," with some Charles Dickens for spice. I had the temerity to make something of myself - and not what THEY expected me to be.
ReplyDeleteThe thing you need to remember about folks who try to dictate - in the extreme - how you live your life, is that you can seldom ever do anything right in their eyes. They'll find a way... Even if you listen, and believe them. Life would be SO much better if those who're supposed to love us - instead - tried to help us be better the person WE want to be.
I don't care how smart you are, how much money you have, what kind of potential and opportunity - If the person who's supposed to love you most is always telling you that you're somehow "unworthy," eventually, you'll start to believe them yourself. How many tragedies have there been because of that!
In the end, we're responsible for our own lives. Try to be the best human being you possibly can be, but cut yourself some slack from time to time. Find people worthy of your affection, and make your own family, if necessary. Find also what it is worth doing with your life, and live that life with as much passion as you're able.
To paraphrase both Gandalf and Tacitus: It's up to you. All we can be expected to do is the best we can with the time we're given.
"do is the best we can with the time we're given" ...Which is where I fall short. My family are generally nice people. I just don't connect to them any better than I would any other group of nearly-random people, which I find very frustrating.
ReplyDeleteNo more whining on the topic from me for awhile.
Don't be so hard on yourself, beautiful. All you can do is try. And keep trying. But don't let it ruin you happiness. It's your given right to pursue, nicht wahr?
ReplyDeleteMy family put the "fun" in dysfunctional. Some have reconciled, some haven't. We just try to make the best of what we can.
"I just don't connect to them any better than I would any other group of nearly-random people, which I find very frustrating."
ReplyDeleteUmm... you know you're not the first person in humanity to feel this way? Part of doing the best we can acknowledges that we're not perfect. On occasion we all fall short. The best we can hope for is to try to stretch the period out between these occasions where we fall short.
"Congratulations, young... human." Or so someone once wrote in a book.