Thursday, November 20, 2014

More like a Moth

I have to say that I am sorry to anyone that had a troubling time with my little breakdown.  I had a need that was not being filled in any other way so I came to my Gothy cyber friends.  Some wonderful people came to my aid.  (I thank them with all I have to give in my humble heart.)  I am bruised and dusty but I will get up and move on.

You’d have thought I wouldn’t need people like those in my family in my life and I’d be happy to be well rid of them.  But I kept on telling myself that they are family and diluting myself that in being family it would eventually work out to the good.

In total it is not as bad as when I lost my son in a car accident fifteen years ago. That this loss of unsupportive harpies would not compare, but in some ways I think it made the loss worse.   They knew I had been through the hell fire of loss already and they chose to be cruel anyway.  Conspired to be.  I was still fragile where family funerals were concerned and that was when they chose to strike.

Enter helpful Gothy cyber friends:
So after a few cyber hugs my Gothy heart was restarted and I unfolded my rumple wings like a moth from a cocoon.

I am not a phoenix.  I didn’t rise triumphant from the ashes.   But I do rise with the help of others who are stronger than me at the moment or if not strong physically, they are understanding and giving which is a different kind of strength.  

I will, no doubt, hover too close to persons who will cause me pain once again.  It is part of relationships to have some conflict and to grow from the experience.

I also know that I am not totally healed yet.  That will take a bit more time.

All in all I am better off without those family members in my life.  No one needs a pack of mean vindictive people hanging around them.  It sours everything that is good.  It was the loss of hope that broke me.  Hope that some day true acceptance would come about.  False hope to be sure.

But hope is the candle in the dark.  The flame to which we flit.  It keeps us alive to live another day.  It lights our dreams.

Today I am a moth.

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Is anybody there?

I know that my finding out that I'm old is not all that interesting to you.

But it was an earth shattering moment for me.

And it will happen to you someday, time willing.

I know that you don't really want to hear it.  But it will.

I'm not a mirror person.

Oh I have mirrors.  Lots of them in every room of the house.  Placed mainly to move light around, create the illusion of space, or make a point of interest.

I just don't look at my reflection.

I don't interest me, I guess.

I'll look to see if my clothing is right.  If there is a smudge on my face, or my hair is straight.

(I don't do makeup daily.  Only when I go out to an event.)

So surprise, surprise!  I got old when I wasn't looking.

Now I have to face time and its aging process.

I've looked the Grim Reaper in the face a few times already.

I think that I didn't believe I'd get this far.

But here I am.

Feeling alone, lost and asking for help.

With no extended family support any longer and no local Goth community to go to, where can this old Goth go for support, comfort and friendship but the Goth family she has adopted as her own on the web.

But at the moment I'm feeling a bit like the hot potato that hit the floor and got all smashed so nobody wants it any longer.

I am sorry if I'm talking about something you can't relate to or would rather avoid.  But at the moment I need to know that someone out there still wants me around a while longer.  My family doesn't.

Is it time for me to just fade away?  Stop blogging?   Crawl in a corner and die?

No, I'm not suicidal.  Just a little tired of rejection.  And sitting in a room full of people all talking and laughing with each other and finding myself alone again, shunted off into a corner, just left me feel sad yesterday.

The center is great fun when there is an activity but a very lonely place when you have no friends there.  The wait between class's can be tiring when you're being systematically ignored again for being the strange one in the room.

If I'm not useful here, I'll go away.  No one likes listening to ever expanding silence when they've shown a need for a hug.

A little hug, Please?

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

In a Questionable Mood

Okay I'll admit it.  I've been in a mood.

I had hoped it would break or dissolve away and I could get on with life.

But it didn't and I'll have to learn to adjust I guess.

I joined a Senior Center.  Yes, one of those places for old farts to park for the day because they have no where else to go to get out of the house.

But its not like that really.  Its more like a club where we all the members remember where we were when JFK died.

I'll admit that my Gothy self is a bit shy of the place.  Sunny and bright, busy and festive, games and lots of things to do.  All types of exercise classes and dancing too.

For a mere five dollars a year I get to miss the odd looks at the college gym as I trudged off to yoga class that cost me eight dollars a session with young things that can make their bodys do the most...  You get the picture.

So I switched.  I'm now with my own set....   What!!!!!

So I'm old.  Wrinkly...  A S-e-n-i-o-r C-i-t-i-z-e-n.

The trouble is I don't feel old.  I feel the same.

I may not want to hang out with teenagers all the time, but I don't feel like I need to be cast off just yet.

When did this getting old thing happen to me?  Well, to tell the truth, years ago.

I couldn't stop it.

The days just kept on going by.

I've been eligible for some time now.  I fought it.

'Not for me.'  I said.  'Not a place for gothy types.'  'Too happy in a very sad sort of way.'  'It has bingo.'  (Enough said.)

I go at least once a week now.  Belly dancing, Tai chi, group jigsaw puzzles, crafting groups, knitting/crochet groups, line dancing, aerobics...  The list goes on.

Some people still stare.  But the comments now are more likely to be 'My grandson/daughter wears that stuff and I kinda like it, but I can't tell my son/daughter that.'

So I guess I'll just have to get use to the fact that I'm getting older.  Thing is, I think I'm gonna' try to find the fun in doing it.  And some of that fun is at my Senior Center.  Go figure!

Monday, November 17, 2014

Forgetful Fear

Looking at the screen here I ran a blank.

I did have some things to say when I sat down.

Don't you hate when that happens.

It doesn't make me feel old.  (Mountain Man always asks me that questions when it happens as we talk.)

This 'running a blank' has happened to me all my life.

It makes me feel small and lost.

As a child I would occasionally get lost.  It didn't frighten me.  I just went about rectifying the situation.

But having a memory hiccup does.  It is more than being lost in a place.  It is a disconnect to everything.  Set adrift for a moment.  No safety.  No tether.  What if I can't get back?

I look at people who are old and feeble, lost in their own minds and it makes me shudder.  It was the hardest part of my job as an elder care worker.

Yes, I and others were there to take care of their bodies, but where were they stuck in their heads.  Was it a beautiful peaceful place?  Or were they stuck in a place feeling lost and small and all alone?

My greatest fear is being stuck in that place.  And worse yet my care takers are not likely to dress me in the dark Victorian funeral wear I so enjoy.

I'll be stuck in a place of loud bright colors.  Unable to scream for help.  Lost and small and all alone unable to communicate until I die.

That scares the ba-gee-bers out of me.

Saturday, November 15, 2014

Where was I again…Changes

Okay, now that the house is back to some semblance of order.  I’m feeling slow but much better than I had been and food has now been restocked.

Back to business.   Let’s see where was I…

Facebook?  No. I’ve beaten that dead horse.
Halloween?  No.  That one has pass for this year.

On to the next holiday.

Thanksgiving.

So the pilgrims wanted to worship and moved to the new world.  They did their harvest festival thing, also thanking their god, and this American overeating holiday is born.

There has always been harvest feasts to be sure.  But here in the states we have perfected the art of poultry gluttony.  People, mostly in family groups, will get together.  Tables will groan with piles of food.  Over fed turkeys with stuffing inside will be consumed to excess.  And we will all call it good.

This will be followed by a dessert starring pumpkin pie among other treats and goodies.

There will be parades and football.  Leftovers will be distributed.  Holiday shopping will be planned.

I do mock.  I complain yearly that the day has been consumed with apathy and greed.

But still I participate.

I will roast the perfect bird.  Stuffing will dress the table.  Over eating will commence.

Not by me mind you.  I’m allergic to poultry.  I don’t do gluten and there are eggs in that pumpkin pie.  Allergies again.

This in no way colors my take on the holiday.  I used to do all of those things in abundance before my poultry allergy blossomed.

Together my husband, Mountain Man, and I will do the traditional thing as we do every year.  He with his traditional food and football while I do my fake versions of the foods on my side of the table after watching the parade.  We will eat too much.  Complain about the leftovers in the frig.   And eat some more.

It leaves me lacking.  Maybe it is the fact that my family is so fractured and has been for some time.  I’ll never again have those family Thanksgivings at my grandmothers house like I used to when I was young.

Its not the food it’s the love of extended family that is gone from my life.

I will take on a new outlook.  I must if I’m to survive the day.

Its not my losses but the abundance I have that I will concentrate on, as it should be.

And I will be thankful.

Friday, November 14, 2014

Getting Better, I Think???

So I've been in bed with an ear infection for a few days.

I'm feeling some what better and felt that I could contribute to the household chores once more.

But to my surprise my being sick apparently gave the house permission to go mess happy.

I'm not naming names here, but someone didn't put things away.  Anything away.

I understand about laundry and dishes piling high.  But in or around the sink/washer.

Not all over the house!

Look here.  I'm not the mess police.  I have made my fair share of clutter.  But really?!?

The house looks like a frat house the day after full party mode.

I know that we all have our jobs to do.  You're busy and so am I.

But when did I become your private maid?  When did you stop pulling your weight?  When did you forget that dropping and dumping things was not a grown up way to live?

I just want to go back to bed but I won't.  I'm too afraid of what would happen next.

Gotta, go clean something to make myself feel better.

Now I never thought I'd be saying that in my lifetime.  But some how it is true.

What just happened here.

I must have woken in an alternate reality.  He got messy and I got a cleaning bug.