Thoughts

I’ve been surfing, catching up with you all. I do that, but don’t note, I’m sorry. It’s just so nice to read and catch up…

I don’t know that I’m “depressed”, tho’ that sounded like it up there, I am drained however. Between mom, my sister, Brie, my brothers and Hubs and Chels’ needs-I feel overwhelmed most days. It’s a wonderful luxury to sit and read a good book in solitude, and that is what I do for pure pleasure. Nothing at all required of me.

My nephew and his wife and their baby, Chloe were here Thurs. thru’ Sunday. First time I’d met my great niece, and that was fun. It’d been ages since I’d seen my nephew also. He was my little buddy. I was 15 when he was born and I adored him from the get go. He’s all grown up now, married and a daddy. He and his wife-who’s a sweetie-are so happy and such good, calm, loving parents.

He came, of course, to see Grandpa. When he left, it was so hard for me, it would most probably be the last time for him. But this has become a common occurrence, whether it rips your heart out or not, you have to just buck up and act like it’s just ok. If I fall apart, everyone does. So I cannot. By the time night falls, I’ve tucked all emotion away so even if hubs arms are open, I’ve nothing to “let go” of. Too late.

Brie and her “relationship” with Carl is just tiresome. For instance last night she called, wondering this or that to do with finances. I was instantly pissed off. I could here that sonofabitch lazy ass Carl in the background and I felt like screaming “TELL HIM TO GET A FUCKING JOB!!!!” I-we-are NOT “helping” out both of them. We will help her, but not him, so if she wants to have him there, it’s their (her) problem.

I’m pulled so many diff. ways, constantly, with her, and with Dad and all I just don’t have it in me for this right now. I’m so proud of her, she’s such a great mom, she finished school and her diploma is in the mail, we are so proud she DID IT! Took her out to Red Lobster (her favorite) in celebration…and may do something else this spring. Nursing school is full, so she is looking for work all over, filled out app after app. Carl sits on his ass. EVERYTHING is tinged (tarnished) by him. It’s so frustrating. She and Logan come out here now, I (none of us) want to see Carl, and he’s not welcome here.

The only pure pleasure is Logan. That darling baby is pure, unadulterated joy. He’s been fussy this past week (top teeth are giving him trouble) so he wants to be held and walked. So I hold and walk. He’s also taken to hollering now. Hoo boy, he’s got good lungs. Don’t know what that’s about, maybe the teeth, maybe the tension at his house. Oh well at any rate, Brie keeps up with Carl and she’ll get kicked out, and they’ll (NOT Carl) live here. Might be for the best. Though it seems stressful right now to think of.

Well. I guess I needed to vent about that a little bit. See I can’t-won’t-talk to hubs about it. He just gets upset right along with me, and more mad at Carl, and then I’m suddenly calming him down. I absolutely must play devils advocate it seems. Then of course if he says something I don’t like about Brie, I become protective. So, you can see why *that* doesn’t work. *wry smile*

I’ve lost any sense of balance or whatever, I had in her and Carl’s whatever they have. Maybe it’s because of Dad. I suppose. It tends to make you really focus on how short and cruel life can be. Maybe I feel pissed off about them instead of being pissed off about Dad-which I can do nothing about. You know? Maybe I think there’s something I can actually do. When it reality there’s nothing. My hands are tied in that situation as with Dad’s.

Peachy.

No wonder I’m feeling helpless these days. (Ya *think*?) Sigh. In my family, if you can’t do anything about something, well you don’t talk about it. It’s a done deal, won’t do any good to cry about it. That’s so ingrained in my psyche that I don’t realize that I’m still doing it-until I start talking, or writing in here. It *does* do good. Even simply bitching about it, helps. May not be fun for others, but it’s still good.

Anyway, in accordance to that, mom will not talk about Dad. Hell, Dad’s still not accepting this. Nope. She’s “fine” or “oh, he’s fine.” She’ll say he’s weaker, or sick, stuff like that, but feelings … no, not much. Not mine or any siblings either for sure. I don’t mean I-or any of us-look to mom for reassurance, I mean if we start sounding sad or whatever the subject is changed.

Not that I blame mom, at all, but it does make for some dicey conversation-ya gotta walk pretty careful. She’s tired, lost weight, and I’m sure, just fed up at times. Who wouldn’t be? But you ask her and she’s FINE. Sometimes I feel like saying “Mom, dad is dying, you know, your husband, my father, do you think we could address that for one fucking second?!?!” Isn’t that awful? Then I feel like scum for thinking it. My heart breaks when I see her running like crazy, doing this and that for dad-before he can even think of it, it’s done. She’s wonderful that way. She just can’t do the feeling thing, never has been able to. Talk about it.

It’s something, I tell you. One minute I feel for mom, the next for dad-and constantly both of them.

My sister kept calling this weekend, were we having fun? How was Chloe, did my nephew do ok with dad, how was dad, mom? I felt like simply hanging up. Like I cannot do it all. I *hate* that. But I do feel pulled in several different directions right now. And none of them-except Logan, are good.

I’ve been putting off writing in here for a reason. Now you know why. (If you have nothing good to say, don’t say….)

Well you’ve been warned by this entry, so if you go to the next pg. you can’t holler! I don’t suppose it’ll get better too soon.

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