7/19/08

Twelve in12

Reading
Queen’s Play ~ Dorothy Dunnett
Pride and Prejudice ~ Jane Austen
Uther ~ Jack Whyte

Finished
Mirror, Mirror ~ Gregory Macguire
Witchling ~ Yasmine Galenorn
Changeling ~ Yasmine Galenorn
Something Wicked ~ Catherine Mulvany
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince ~ J.K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows ~ J.K. Rowling
Myst: Book of Atrus ~ Rand Miller, Robyn Miller and David Wingrove
The Game of Kings ~ Dorothy Dunnett
The Other Boleyn Girl ~ Philippa Gregory

Going back to the places of the past is always difficult.  Time does not stand still except in memories, but trying to wrap your mind around that fact is much harder than you’d think.  I can only care so much, give so much, allow so much in before I start to crack and lose control.  I like being the person people call, the person other people lean on, the person the guy counts on.  I don’t mind helping other people.  But at some point, I need that person too.  I need someone to lean on and go to.  Occassionally I can find this person.  But not always.  How do I explain to someone why going back to that house was so difficult.  Why seeing that house literally falling to pieces makes me cringe.  Why seeing those horses so thin and tired, those puppies so sad and lonely breaks my heart.  But instead of trying to help, trying to care, I pull back in fear.  It all just makes me want to walk away faster, and never return.

The physical act of returning to your past is one thing.  The mental and emotional roadtrip triggered by something totally unpredictable…  I’m not sure which was worse.  Being reminded of everything he said wrong years ago to me, knowing he’s saying those things to his mother…   He thinks he’s helping.  He thinks he’s so smart, so much better.  But he’s making the same mistakes he made with her.  All the reasons why I pulled away from him years ago were all the reasons he blamed me for the failure of our relationship.  I pushed him out, I locked him out.  But as he sat on my couch, so exhausted from dealing with his mother, I knew I had done the right thing.  If he ever had to deal with me in the same way…  I wish I could make him understand this is why I always pushed him away.  But I also wish that he could understand that he’s not all-knowing.  This is a mental disease, this is a mental problem.  Reason, logic, common sense – they mean nothing to someone suffering from a mental disorder.  If I’ve learned nothing else, if there is nothing else I can tell people about this problem is its total lack of reason and logic.  We know its not logical.  We know we’re not being reasonable or making any kind of sense.  Except it doesn’t change the situation.  Knowing how insane we are, almost makes it worse.  Ignorance is bliss and all that.

Too many trips back to places I don’t particularly want to be.  Maybe I do need that vacation….