10.24.2004
rant of the week
We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveals the human spirit. - e.e. cummings
My sister in law sent me that today. Sweet, but kind of codependent?
I want to talk about my mother for a few minutes, if that's okay. She's... sigh... complicated. Everytime I mention my friend Susy, she and I have the same exact conversation. It's so old and lame. But this is the low-down: my mother thinks it's wrong for me to have Susy as a friend because Susy is close to her age. Susy's 44 and my mom is 49. So my mom thinks it's inappropriate to have a friend that much older than me. There's something wrong with me that I need another mommy figure in my life, according to her. I have some older male friends, too, and then I need a daddy figure - you get the picture. She also thinks something's wrong with Susy that she's friends with me - like she needs a daughter, or wants something from me other than friendship. "Is she a lesbian?" my mother always asks. "No," I reply. "Well, she looks like one." mom says. Ugh. My mother should be more accepting of people's looks and lifestyles than anyone, because she hates that people think she's a lesbian because of her short hair and because she doesn't date men, either. She hasn't dated in 21 years, since she got divorced from my dad. And yet she still has the gall to accuse others of the very things she hates other people accusing her of! Argh! Anyway, so mom and I go through this every time Susy comes up in conversation. It's so annoying to justify myself to her. I tell her the same thing every time, hoping one of these times she'll get it. Susy's a good person, she cares about other people, she's not fake, etc. Mom apparently doesn't think those are good enough reasons. "Does she ever borrow money from you?" That's just insulting. So sometimes I feel like writing Mom off, too.
Lately I feel like writing everyone off. Not speaking to anyone I currently know. Going to work, come home, hole myself in my dark, dark room and just vegetate. Depressed much? But still, even Joe. Fuck him. He's very broke lately, which is a problem. Anytime we go out, I have to pay. I buy things for the house that he doesn't, like laundry detergent, paper towels, Coca Cola, whatever. I'm forever extending myself monetarily for him, which is a problem for me because I'm pretty broke, too. And instead of helping out more around the house to make up for being broke, he wallows in his self-pity and does less around the house. So the trash collects in a pile, his cats' puke attracts ants on our porch, dirt remains scattered on the porch from his cats digging up the plants and from their litter box, which doesn't get changed very often, his dirty glasses continue to lay around the living room, computer room, and his room, ingraining that little circle of coke at the bottom, the carpets stay unvaccuumed, the tables accumulate more lint and dust, and the refridgerator stays empty. And I'm about to lose my fucking mind.
I have several choices. I can take care of everything and be miserable. I can do nothing, and be miserable. I can talk to Joe about it and risk the wrath of Queen Joe and his "I'm worthless and a complete asshole" pity party rantings. My options are not fun to consider. But at this point, I'm so miserable that do I really care if he gets pissed? He's already miserable, too. Might as well try to make things better, right? So I'm going to talk to him. Not tonight, because I have to go to bed early and he doesn't get out of work until late, but probably Monday or Tuesday, when he's off of work. Leave plenty of time for him to go through the various Joe stages of conflict resolution. First, there's the 30 seconds of open-mindedness. Then there's the crushing anger and resentment, followed quickly by the self-loathing and guilt trip. Then at some point, there's resignation and determination to make a positive change. Then, a few weeks/days/hours later, we're right back where we started. Joe not doing shit, and me being stuck having to say something again. It's sooo much to go through, just to get him to take out the fucking trash periodically and return a damn Blockbuster movie on time!
I shouldn't have to do this. But I will. And soon. Soon, I will contemplate cutting him out. Moving to Texas on my own. We'll see.
alannablue at 3:20 p.m.