You are currently browsing the monthly archive for November, 2007.
“Gotta brother
He’s got real problems.”
-Sheryl Crow
And the countdown is on until my brother moves into assisted living on Sunday. Whew. This past month has been a gigantic cluster-flugel (that’s parent-ese for that other word that isn’t quite as nice. I’m trying to break the habit of dropping the f-bomb – it’s just not polite). I called my dad on Wednesday with the news that a friend saw my brother at a bank that wasn’t his bank, with a car full of teens. Uh-oh. My brother’s IQ is MAYBE 80. Probably less (he seems to have been declining mentally for some time). He’s an easy mark for manipulative people and seems to have buddied up with the biggest bunch of losers in our area. Again. They are all under 18, and my brother wants so badly to be liked that he just does whatever they tell him – no matter how not quite legal it may be. This may include – ohhhhhhh, buying alcohol for underaged drinkers… or their cigarettes… He withdraws money from his bank account (without telling my husband, who is the one who manages the finances) to buy them dinner, or whatever else they happen to want. They sleep in his bed while he sleeps on the couch. They put out their cigarettes on my grandmother’s heirloom furniture.
My dad says that my brother “can’t help it”. While I know that my brother is mentally “not all there”, I have a hard time buying this story of helplessness. Dad isn’t here – he’s 2000 miles away, and I don’t believe he spends enough time around my brother to truly know what’s what. Perception is reality, I suppose. I have a hard time buying that my brother is clueless, because you can tell by how he lies to cover things up, or how nervous he gets when he’s busted that he KNOWS what he’s done is wrong. He knows it. Even if he were truly “mentally only 11 years old” that still doesn’t negate the fact that even 11 year olds can distinguish right from wrong for the most part.
My brother has a host of medical problems, some of which render his life expectancy to be maybe half of what a “normal” person’s might be. Right now, he does not look good. He walks really slow. He’s on a lot of medications (who knows if he’s taking them as he should be – the balance is delicate – not taking them can quickly throw his whole system out of whack). My husband is so mad at my brother for all of this drama – because he has had to spend a lot of time cleaning up these messes of my brother’s, both literally and figuratively. He tells me, “He’s such an asshole.” And yeah, you know what? He is an asshole.
My dad gets sad that my brother and I don’t get along better – but my brother is very different than I am, obviously. I am not a person who buddies up to kids and talks to them (despite having two of my own). My brother is not able to talk about things – in fact, in conversation, he’ll always steer the topic away from whatever we’re discussing to something he knows so that he can contribute and monopolize the talk. When we were at my late grandmother’s cottage for her memorial service, a simple comment I made triggered my brother to tell me that I was a bitch who didn’t give a rat’s ass about my family. Alrighty then. Conversation over.
It’s hard though, because as much as he drives me crazy, I can’t seem to get past it. I know that when he dies it’s going to be hard for me. It’s going to be hard for me because I know it’ll crush my parents. And it’s going to be hard, because I know that in some ways it might be a relief that at least no one has to worry about him any more. And it’s going to be hard because I’m sure that when the guilt sets in (and it will, because that’s the only part of religion I ever got), I’m going to realize that I maybe could have been a better sister.
But I don’t have the energy to be a good sister to him because I’ve spent the past month along with my family trying to continuously fix every issue that has cropped up. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. And in a few days, the drama should settle and god, I can’t wait. My mom is tired. Her husband is tired. My husband is tired. My dad and his wife are tired. My sister is tired. We are all so worn out that there really isn’t much to give. There’s not a lot of sympathy. And it’s hard to feel hopeful.
“You thought you could find happiness
Just over that green hill
You thought you would be satisfied
But you never will –”
-The Eagles
Dear Me:
I am writing to you from your future. You are 20 right now, and about to run into the man who will become your husband. You’ll run into him at a party for your girlfriends’ 21st birthdays – you’ll have had too many beers, and he’ll have had too many drinks. He’ll spill one in your shoe. You’ll catch up on the last several years since you’ve seen each other. He’s an old friend of yours – you were at his first wedding. You’ll find out his son is 17 months old and that he’s been separated from his wife for a few months now. You’ll share drunken kisses, he’ll promise to call.
Days later, he will call, and so begins the ride.
No one has ever told you what it is like to be involved with someone who has been married and has a kid. I’m telling you – it’s NOT easy. It’s not fun. You will often feel like you are last on the list. You will often be the scapegoat of his ex’s rage. Know that it’s not because of YOU – she’d have done this to anyone. But you are young, and this is a lot to take on.
You fall in love blindly. You want to believe that love is the same from the moment you first feel it, until you are old and grey. You want to believe that the only thing that changes is the age on your driver’s license. No one has ever told you before how relationships ebb and flow – how they evolve, how people change. No one ever told you it wasn’t going to be easy.
To give you credit, the tumultuous beginning was a good indication to you that things would never be smooth sailing. You always felt, however, that it was you and your man against the world. You want to believe you will always be on the same side and that there is nothing you can’t conquer together. You want to believe that time will lessen the load you are bearing and that you will never resent him for it.
But time doesn’t lessen the load. I’m telling you, I’ve seen the past several years – and unfortunately, the hits do keep coming. You fight the good fight and all the while, every obstacle that comes your way, you bust through it like a champion. You are strong – all your friends will tell you so. You are so lucky to have your husband – again, everyone says so.
What no one warns you about is how you have kids and you lose yourself. How your husband works long hours and doesn’t help out enough around the house or doesn’t spend enough time with the kids. How he makes crude jokes at your expense in the name of being funny – some that cut you so deep that you seethe inside, yet never tell him. No one tells you that you can get so burned out in your life, that all of this eventually comes to a boil in your head and you just mentally check out and pull away.
No one has told you how hard it is to see the look on your husband’s face when he asks, “Are we okay?” And no one tells you how hard it is to try to spend time together to try to re-find each other, and recover what feels like it’s gone into hibernation. No one has ever told you it’s okay to put yourself first. No one has ever told you to stop being so self-sacrificing. No one has ever told you to stop trying to please everyone – why would they? Your efforts only make their life easier.
I’m telling you: it’s OKAY to drop the rope on some of the things you are doing. It’s okay to struggle and it’s okay that you will be going through this time. You aren’t alone. You will find that you have a friend or two who will lift you when you are hurting. You will find that crying in the shower, while it gets tiring, does help dissolve some of your hurt. You will find that when your husband realizes how stuck you are, he will really try to put forth effort to repair the rift. It’s okay if you need time to get past the rawness of your feelings. He does love you. It’s okay to let him work a little harder, he’s been taking you for granted, and if it hurts him to hear it, that’s his feeling to own.
You have no idea this is coming, but I’m telling you – You will get through it. You are tough. You are strong. Your heart is full of love and your kindness comes out in spades.
Love,
You
“China decorates our table
Funny how the cracks don’t seem to show
Pour the wine dear
You say we’ll take a holiday
but we never can agree on where to go…”
-Tori Amos
Lately, I’ve been in what can probably be termed as pissed off housewife mode. Husband and I have been together about ten and a half years, and I have a lot on my plate (boo hoo, right – learn to say “no”, right? I know, I’m working on it!). So when he leaves for work at 6:30 a.m. when his day technically starts at 8, and leaves me with one extra hour of mom duty on top of everything, it doesn’t add to my joy. No, it does not. Quite frankly, it sort of pisses me off. When you work INSIDE the home, your day never truly ends. Sure, your spouse comes home and they change a diaper or two, maybe they read a book -but it’s like you live at the office. Can you imagine if you were expected to be chained to your cubicle 24/7?
Some days I feel like that.
Last week, I went shopping with my BFF who was just really upset to hear me say something negative about Husband. She’s coming off the trio of failed marriages and she said to me, “You have the most solid marriage of anyone I know – if you guys can’t do it, who can?!” Admittedly, it crushed me to hear her say this because I don’t think anyone has a “perfect marriage” and in fact, that may be an oxymoron of sorts. But, nevertheless, she said, “You guys need to get away! I’ll watch your kids! Go away and have a romantic weekend!”
Nice offer but…. I don’t wanna.
Another friend of mine likens it to having a well – you have to keep replenishing your well, otherwise there is nothing left to give. Well, my well is damn near empty. Sure, a vacation with Husband might help right now. Know what would really help? A vacation ALONE!!! I feel at the point now where if I don’t take time for myself, and SOON, I am going to go nutso. I’m juggling right now – a tremendous amount of balls in the air – and I may start dropping them soon if I am not able to regroup and catch my breath.
“My heart can’t possibly break
when it wasn’t even whole to start with…”
-Kelly Clarkson
My dad will be in town this weekend. His wife has found an assisted living facility that might be a winner for my brother and he’s coming to check it out with my mother, and see if indeed it is “the place”.
That my dad is going to be here makes me feel so absolutely sick inside, that I spent much of the day yesterday feeling like crap, and today is off to the same kind of start. In my armchair psychology world, I believe that my dad must have tremendous guilt issues that my brother is far from the “perfect son”. I wish I knew all that was wrong with my brother – but I don’t. Spina bifida is when the spine doesn’t form entirely – there’s a hole in it. That’s not what happened to my brother. My brother’s skull didn’t form all the way – essentially he has a “hole in his head” (no, you can’t see it). In addition to that, he has numerous health issues, including pituitary, thyroid and other issues that involve a whole lot of medication. He is mentally about ten or eleven years old. He has been in and out of hospitals all of his life, and my dad hasn’t always been very involved in the whole process.
My brother has always required a lot of my parents’ time and resources. Meanwhile, I have always been pretty independent. I did a lot on my own, without a lot of help. I was a straight A student for the most part. I stayed out of trouble for the most part. I was a good kid because I knew my parents had enough on their hands. And while I grew up and changed and got married and had kids and all of that, my brother is the same. He’s living in his own apartment now, but it’s been nothing but one drama after another for the past several years. It’s really come to a head lately, and so they are working to get him in a group home – this really IS the best thing for everyone.
The thing that happens when my dad comes in to town though, is that his guilt seems to consume him, and he will spend every waking minute with my brother, and then comes to see me in the in between times. This means that he’ll spend all day with my brother, and stop by to see me for five minutes on his way back to his hotel. It’s been like this for as long as I’ve been on my own, and while I’m used to it now, it still gets to me every damn time it happens. When my father was here in July, he actually spent the day with my brother, and then LEFT TOWN without even telling me, only calling me on my cell phone later. That is how I found out he was gone. He didn’t come say goodbye to me, or to my kids. At this point, I don’t care so much for me – but it infuriates me on behalf of my kids – because their youth is gonna be short – they are growing daily – and if you blink – you miss it. Fine, you don’t want to choose me, don’t choose me. Choose my kids.
But, here we are again. Dad comes in to town tonight. He called yesterday to tell me, “I really want to see you and the girls… but this stuff with your brother is my main objective. I have to make sure this gets done.” Translation (since you don’t know him): I want to see you but I know I’m going to be so busy that I’m telling you this now so that when I blow you off again, you can’t say you weren’t warned.
Dad always tells me how amazing I am – I’m so smart, I’m so independent, I do all these things – my kids are great. Blah blah blah. But, if I’m so amazing, how come he doesn’t want to see me? It shouldn’t bother me. It’s been this way as long as I can remember. If I were, as my friend tells me, “all dead in the inside” (like she is, wink) this wouldn’t be a problem, but every time, it does bother me because you never stop thinking that you want your parents to love you and want to be around you. And when they don’t, it really sucks.
“These dreams go on when I close my eyes,
Every second of the night I live another life…”
-Heart
Lately, I have been having wild dreams. This is odd because usually, one of two things happens to me during the night: 1) I don’t sleep well enough to dream or 2) I sleep too hard to dream. I know that they say “everybody dreams” and that may be, but I’m not usually one to remember my dreams. But lately, I do. And they are crazy, crazy, crazy. And amazing too.
“We’ve got these chains that hang around our necks,
people want to strangle us with them before we take our first breath.
Afraid of change, afraid of staying the same,
when temptation calls, we just look away.”
-Barenaked Ladies
Friday, I decided to bite the bullet and email the friend from that trip from hell. It’s been over a month – I really have a problem with uncertainty – I want to know how it is, how it’s gonna be, what is going on, what the deal is. If the friendship was over, I wanted to know. If we could move forward, I wanted to know. I’m freakin’ stubborn – have I mentioned that? It’s just one of those things. So. I emailed her – said I thought 17 years of friendship ought to be bigger than 48 hours – could we talk? Her response came quicker than I thought it would – absolutely, she said. “Thank you for sending this message!”
Tonight, we are meeting for dinner, and I am admittedly nervous. I hate being nervous because it puts me at a distinct disadvantage. I don’t want to just prolong this tiff – but, I have to let her know how crappy I felt by the things that were said and the way in which they were said. That is NOT my strong suit. And, I’m not gonna lie – it’s not even on the top ten list of things that might ALMOST be a strong suit for me. But her? She’s very aggressive, she’s very quick to say whatever is on her mind – so I am half feeling like I could easily get steamrollered – and I hate that!
Seventeen years of friendship is a long time, but it’s even longer if you hold people in these boxes of who you think they are and who you think they should be. Sometimes I feel that is what happens – when I step outside the box of the person they know, it makes people uncomfortable. I’m nothing if not predictable, reliable… boring. There have been times lately where I wonder just how well people even know me – and realize if they don’t me, it’s because I haven’t let them see me. And there comes that – do I want to let them see me, or is the status quo enough?
“You see I’ve been climbing stairs but mostly stumbling down
I’ve been reaching high but always losing ground
You see I’ve conquered hills but I still have mountains left to climb
And right now, right now I’m doing the best I can
at this point in my life…”
-Tracy Chapman
Lately, I get overwhelmed with the feeling of needing to run away. Not always. Just at some moments of some days I feel like I would rather be anywhere than in my life. I struggle sometimes because I know that so many people have greater challenges, or bigger obstacles than I do. I struggle because I try not to complain about what I fear others will perceive as “little things” so instead I’m kind of dealing with it by myself, trying to figure out if I am or am not insane for feeling so worn out. And I struggle because I don’t often reach out for help because I don’t want to be needy.
I even struggle to write about the things here, because it’s hard to tell someone who has not walked in your shoes why those cute shoes are giving you the biggest blisters. That’s what I feel like. Like it might look good from the outside, but…
I struggle because my 33 year old brother (he is extremely developmentally disabled) continually finds himself in situations that require the family bailing him out – and I watch how it’s just about killing my mom, and how my parents, who can’t stand each other are having to deal with each other again. A lot. And because my dad feels like my brother is so incapacitated, rather than get mad at HIM, he instead turns against me. I struggle because I don’t like my brother. I struggle because my dad hates that I don’t like my brother. I struggle because what kind of person doesn’t like their brother (that’s a rhetorical question, by the way)? If my brother continues on his current path without intervention, he will end up in jail. And I guess I’m struggling because I don’t know if that’s a bad thing.
I struggle because I hate being a stepmother. I hate dealing with the Ex. I hate dealing with my stepson, who has racked up two in-school suspensions in less than a month – both for fighting right next to a teacher (um, hello? Stupid enough to fight – even stupider to fight with a witness RIGHT THERE). I struggle because my stepson cannot be left alone around my kids, and the stress of it makes me crazy. I struggle because I fear that he’s going to hurt one of my kids and then what will I do?
It’s difficult because there is nothing I can do to fix the situation.
I struggle because I take on too much because I’m afraid to say no. Between raising the kids, work, freelance projects, and watching my friends’ kids, I’m spread pretty thin. Then you add in the domestic aspects of staying-at-home – the cooking, cleaning, the general presiding over the running of the house. Y’all, I’m feeling like I’m doing too much on my own. Somedays I just let it all run into the ground – just to see if someone else will help me pick up the pieces. Somedays it happens, somedays it doesn’t. The days it doesn’t happen are frustrating to me. I don’t want to ask for help – I want my husband to want to help. (This is a stupid approach, by the way – I realize that it shows how little I understand men).
I struggle because there are people who are truly sick. Who have real problems. Those people would laugh in my face at the things that are bothering me. I can’t help it. I’m worn out. I would love to check in to a hotel for a few days, tell no one where I was going, eat room service and watch bad tv, and just be. Be where no one expects anything of me, and I have no responsibility.
(Argh – vent over!)
“I walked into you your dream
and now I’ve forgotten how to dream my own dream…”
-Tori Amos
When I was a senior in high school getting ready to graduate, my plan was to go to college, major in Engineering, study Biomedical Engineering and do amazing things that would shake the medical community, make me a name, make some important discovery that would impact millions if not trillions of lives. Then, I failed physics. And then I decided that maybe Engineering wasn’t such a good place for someone like me – someone who would rather write than deal with facts and figures. Someone who didn’t want to spend every waking minute working equations. I tried some business classes. It made more sense. I changed schools, changed my major, and ended up with a Bachelor’s Degree in Business Administration after majoring in Marketing. To be honest, it was a much better fit.
Still, I had visions of doing amazing things – working for incredible companies, moving up the ladder, making an impact.
So here I sit. I have had my college degree for nine years and in that time I’ve worked with one company for three years and one for six. And to be honest, I feel like when it comes to work, I have no ambition. Yeah, I still want to do amazing things – but my circumstances don’t allow. I sit at home on the laptop plugging away at projects, at tasks, and don’t really find it in me to go above and beyond to do MORE to get further. Frankly, no one really cares what I’m doing anyway. I’m the mom sitting at home, helping to fill in the blanks while other more important people toil away in the offices.
And it’s funny… my husband went through such a funk about work a few years ago. He went back to school. Thousands upon thousands of dollars in student loan debt for him to get his degree in Education so he could be a teacher. And you know what? He has the degree, he has the teaching certificate… and he went right back to accounting! I can’t imagine having a dream and letting it impact my family that way… and what if it turns out to be for nothing?
Sometimes I wonder what I’m going to do when my youngest heads off to school. Am I going to stay home? Am I going to try to find something else out there? Do I even want to keep doing what I’ve done for the past nine years? I don’t know. Every now and then, something crosses my mind – things I’d like to do, things I would like to try. I just don’t know that I have it in me these days – it’s frustrating that I went from being a big thinker to being so stationary. I hope that at one point I can snap out of it.
“Lose your mind and they never give you credit
It’s enough to drive you crazy if you let it…”
-Dolly Parton
In addition to raising my two kids, and working part time from home 20 hours a week, and watching some kids before and after school… (Phew! Tired just reading about it)… I’ve been doing some freelance work for my dad’s wife which I can only describe as completely and totally CRAZY-making.
I am extremely organized when it comes to work. Sure, sometimes something might fall through the cracks because I’ve had a momentary lapse of my system – but, for the most part, I’m all about creating that big to-do list, getting things done and checking them off the list. I’m not saying my way is the only way. It may not even be “the right way” – but for me, it’s how I function most effectively and the least amount of stuff gets missed.
As a result of the way I work, I have a very difficult time working with people less linear. I have a hard time following one’s train of thought if it bounces all over the place. It’s not for lack of trying, mind you – I really do try to follow the chaotic reasoning, but… inevitably all it does is make me crazy.
I’m at that point today with a project for my dad’s wife. Actually, I hit that point Wednesday when her “one hour project” that she requested my help with ended up taking five hours. There are only so many hours in the day – when I start getting stretched like Gumby, I also start getting snippy, overwhelmed and just plain worn out. Friday, she headed out of town and I thought for sure I’d get a break. No go. She called me FROM THE AIRPLANE on her cell phone (I can only guess what it did to the plane’s navigational system – she made it to New York alright, so I’m guessing it didn’t screw them up too badly). Friday evening, at about 9:30 p.m. I was getting emails from her: cancel x,y and z. It’s after close of business – but I’ll try. Saturday morning, I got a confirmation that the cancellation went through. This morning, she called in a panic that the cancellation DIDN’T go through, that x, y and z were delivered anyway: “Get them out of here!” An hour later, “Well, they’re okay, we’re going to keep them.”
Yes, I had to cancel AND uncancel this morning.
The temp agency called to complain about her. The rental company made it all work anyway. In the mean time, I look like a jackass, and I can’t very well say, “Y’all, believe me, it’s NOT me. I’m not this much of a lame ass. I wouldn’t have done this to you.” Since that doesn’t exactly say “professional behavior” (although we are soooooooo far past that at this point), I have, for the most part bitten my tongue. Which sucks. Because worse than actually being disorganized is other people thinking you are.
“And I keep track of my friends
I keep track of my enemies
Who is who, who is who
It changes daily…”
-Seven Year Bitch
The other day, I received a message via MySpace (yes! Shut up, I’m 31 and have and use a MySpace account – I’m clinging to my youth, I suppose) from one of my friends who I went on that trip from hell with. It’s been almost a month – and we haven’t spoken since, so I was surprised to receive a message from her. I suspect that she’s digging in her feet like I am – convinced she’s in the right and not willing to back down. That’s fine, but I assure you, I’m stubborn as hell, and not so ready to concede this battle either.
Her message asked me about my husband who competed in a race a few weeks ago. It was a low key note, nothing super duper personal. I responded in turn. Again, I didn’t go deep, just answered her question in what I believe was a pleasant tone. We exchanged a few messages. We never mentioned the trip.
It’s funny – for days I’ve been composing the post in my head about the end of this friendship. I’m not one who gives up on people and I’m not one who confronts. And always, if someone is kind to me, I’m not going to respond with bitchiness. That’s never been my way, even with my husband’s ex (and if anyone deserves unsolicited bitchiness, it would be her). If someone is civil, I’m civil right back. If you say “How are you?”, I’m always going to say, “Fine, how are you?” (or some derivative of that – I’m not a total predicable robot). In any case, she was kind to me, and I didn’t feel like responding, “You know, the way you acted was pretty nasty and I’m not sure how I feel about you right now.” Didn’t seem fitting. Of course, now it drifts me into that category of wondering if I’m ever going to say anything, because quite likely, she never will. We’ll probably silently agree to never travel with each other again, and I will continue to hold my thoughts and my trust near to me and not give them away. What seems odd to me is to go from being so close, to holding each other further than arm’s length away, and then sweeping the reason why under the rug.
I’m not entirely sure I get it. I suppose I could say something. That would inevitably evolve into an ugly defensive reaction, I’m sure. I don’t know that I want to go there. I don’t know that it’s worth it. I don’t know if I need that in my life. Frankly, I have enough stuff in my life. And I do have friends that I trust, and I have people that I care about who care about me, and, shoot. I’m getting older, y’all. At some point, don’t we just get too old for this crap?
