When I was a kid, I took care of myself as much as I could. Each year I spent more and more time away from home. As a teen I worked at a summer camp and spent all of summer break there. During the school year I was hardly home at all, I stayed busy evenings and weekends. Everyone told me how mature I was.
Right after high school graduation I went into the Navy. That is how I put myself through University. I never moved back home after that. I haven’t always done the best job, but I have been taking care of myself since I was a teen. I have always been very social but I haven’t needed anyone else. If I couldn’t do it for myself I didn’t do it.
The last few years that has all come undone. That pisses me off and scares me. I can’t live my life by myself anymore. I am not doing a good job taking care of myself and I really suck at asking for help. On January 13 of this year I tried to take my own life. It almost worked. That is the only solution I see to my life and I am really close to trying again.
I have asked for help but I don’t think I have done it right. It is hard for me to admit I can’t do it myself. It is hard for me to trust that someone else will actually help me.
Since January I have been surviving. A job I don’t really like at least keeps me distracted during the weekdays. Work was the only time I was distracted enough not to have to fight for my survival. Now even when I am at work I am thinking about killing myself.
If I can’t even take care of myself what is the point of living.
Sorry I am not more cheerful. I thought writing might help get some of this out. I am not doing too good at finding someone to talk to about this or talking about it.
This weekend brings a big day for me, my child turns 18, so not so much a child anymore. If you don’t know, this is a child I have not seen or heard from in 16 years, which has not been my choice. My ex decided keeping my child from me would be a good way to hurt me. A lot of people through the years have tried to comfort me by telling me once he reaches 18 he can decide to reach out without permission. I understand the good intentions, but it is little comfort. For me, his eighteenth birthday means I have missed his entire childhood. There is nothing in this world that can make that ok. Getting to know him as an adult would be great, but it wouldn’t bring back what I have lost.
Looking South from up here, one thing about US politics stands out for me right now. In one month there is an election in Alabama that has seemed to take on a huge importance. Maybe I am wrong, but before Trump, there were ultra conservative, racist, homophobic candidates, but even if they might possibly win an election, they didn’t seem quite as threatening. Now people are expecting this election to be not just a statement about Alabama politics but more of a test to see if 12 months of Trump has turned people away from Trumplike candidates. Since when has Alabama served as the political weathervane to see which way the wind is blowing? I grew up in a state that sent an ultra conservative named Jesse Helms to Washington term after term. Yes, he was influential and controversial, but I don’t remember there being such fear that a majority of voters would lean that far right. Until Trump, it seemed moderates were more of the norm, whether right or left. Along with everyone else, I will be interested see what message Alabama voters send and how important that message turns out to be for the rest of the country.
I think this is one of the most important days of the year. Remembering the true cost of wars is important. We have to remember that war isn’t a Hollywood movie, it is dirty hungry and scared young people killing other dirty scared and hungry young people. People who have to mature much quicker than they should even though a lot never had the chance for their years to catch up with that maturity. War sucks and we can’t forget that. While we honour past heros, we should be looking for ways to avoid future wars. For every hero we can name, there are countless unnamed dead people. I am grateful that so many men and women would fight for what they believed in and at the same time I hope no one will ever have to again. I hate war, I hate that service people all over the world have to die young. I hate remembering what it was like to be 19 years old in the military and to have to pack up my dead buddies personal items to send to his parents. Today lets honour all those who have served and tomorrow lets start working on finding ways to make the world safe without guns and killing.
I have had trouble really getting a good grasp on how I have been feeling, but I think stray dog sums it up best.
Someone finds a stray, says what a nice dog it is and I wish I could keep you, but I can’t and takes it to a shelter. There was never any intention by them to keep the dog, it just comforted them to say they wish they could. They feel good though because they “saved” the stray. It’s not really about the stray, they will never see it again and it honestly had no real impact on their life.
I had some problems over the holidays and as a result, someone doing their job, said they wished they could invite me to their gathering. Again, there was no intention to, it wasn’t possible, but they probably felt better and went about their holidays thinking, what a nice thing I did. Once the holidays were done, I did get more help. Just like being turned over to a shelter. The original person even told me that it wouldn’t matter if I didn’t see them anymore because maybe I could get better help elsewhere.
After the stray goes to the shelter, doctors check to see if its healthy, its fed and taken care of, and meets people who might adopt it. I am the one everyone says is nice, but no one cares enough about to adopt. Eventually that one is put down but everyone involved in its care feels good because they passed it on to the right people.
I am cared for as an employee, a client and a patient, not a person and I am told the things that makes everyone feel better. I know they are doing their job, and that is important and they are good at it, but at the end of the day, all that matters is that they kept me safe for the time being. They feel good for saving me. If they can pass me along before the end of me, they don’t have to worry. I have no real impact on anyone’s life, I pass through, maybe make them laugh a little, help when I can, then I am gone. They might think I was nice, but not who they want around for whatever reason. It’s not their fault, its my flaws.
Another young woman was killed in Edmonton because of fentanyl. One of hundreds across the country in recent months. This beautiful 20 year old is just a statistic to most people, I think we get numbed by all the senseless deaths we hear about each day. I feel bad about that now. This statistic had a name, a childhood, and a crying mother that called me last night to tell me. I had known her since she was 4 or 5.
I want her to rest in peace.
Why is that phrase only used for the dead? I am so sick of the violence and hate in this world. No wonder some people choose to escape with drugs. I don’t condone it, but can see how it seems like the right choice for some. What does it say about our society when bright loving young people would risk their life to escape what we have helped shape?
We should all be able to rest in peace while we are alive. More promising young people would still be alive if we could.
I really had nothing in particular to write about, but some time to write a post, so I get to vent a little and hopefully it at least helps me.
Work is still very stressful. A little more hopeful looking, but still not good. It took turning a three day weekend into a one day weekend to squeeze out the little bit of hope there is. I was looking forward to some serious shopping for my new wardrobe over the weekend, but instead worked too much.
As a result of long hours at wkrk and constant stress, I don’t like this city! Ok, I really do, but a break from the crowd would be nice. A few days without rude people pushing their way in front of me for the last spot on a train or bus would be nice. Better yet, no rude people pushing their way in front of me for a spot on a nearly empty train or bus. I get the feeling they do it just to be rude, I can’t think of any other rationalization for them.
Speaking of rude people, I am sick of excuses. Some people seem to think misgendering, using a wrong name, or making sarcastic gender comments is ok if they can think of an excuse. I am too old to remember/change, I have trouble remembering, and I don’t understand are the top ones I have heard so far. Guess what, I personally do not understand being in a body that matches my gender, I have never experienced that, but I don’t use it as an excuse to be rude to you! I also really don’t need to be singled out, especially in front of others, and told I am not being lady like. Being a woman in no way implies I am a lady, and I never will be if it means adhering to someone’s random stereotypes.
Ok, maybe I do feel a little better now. Sorry to be so negative. Something happened the other week that makes me smile when I think about it, hopefully you can get a chuckle from it. A round, fat baby seal looked at me with his cute adorable face. I swear he was smiling at me, then he let out a ripping loud fart 🙂