domingo

 

At my brother's suggestion I went to the party a few hours early. Got to spend some time with the niece and nephew. It was fun. Left before anyone arrived.   (So I usually capitalize relationships even though it isn't technically proper... in these blogs I am trying not to use names so it feels weird to not have some formal way of saying this person...  but for today, I'll try to do it right I guess?)

I was a little anxious all morning, like I was doing something wrong, or sneaking around, or didn't know how to exist with people I care about. It felt funny how yesterday I saw two friends and didn't think anything of my being out in the world - and the day prior I was out to a movie by myself  ... but somehow I felt like I was gonna "screw up" being around my family. It had me thinking about social anxiety all day... like how I often have these weird feelings around groups of people, or people I haven't seen in a while, or new people. Not usually if I have a role, but certainly if I am meeting someone and there is any kind of pressure. I don't do normal pleasantries and small talk well, I can, I know the scripts, but it just doesn't feel natural... so I don't.  When I was out with a friend yesterday she casually slipped in that she sees herself as neurodiverse now... actually both of my friends did...  I think it's starting to feel like this is the term we use for anyone who doesn't quite fit in - but it loses a lot of its clinical value if we stretch it to mean all things for all people... you know?  My mom uses it that way too. E used to try to convince me occasionally that I was autistic... I still kind of hold to this idea that I have more of an OCD neurotype rather than an autistic one. And I am very sensitive to my environment and the people in it. Typically, that means that I am picking up on social cues, overly sensitive to them, rather than not understanding or not getting them, regardless of whether I follow them or not. Also, there does seem to be more autistic traits, more androgyny, more desire to be a self, and not be put upon. I watched a comedian making a joke that Chinese culture is autistic, I've heard that many times about Germans and Scandinavians (or more accurately Finnish people).  There are times I wonder if autistic traits are more typical than we are pretending... Maybe when we all lived in community it was just more accepted, but now we are looking for why it is so hard to be in community, and we are finding it easy to point fingers. Maybe our lack of community is causing more of the epigenetic markers to fire.  The birthrate is declining. People will start dying sooner. Civilization is falling apart.

Anyway... that wasn't really the thing I was thinking of to write about... I was thinking about how my social anxiety plays out in so many situations in which it seems absolutely unnecessary. How many times have I been in a room full of people I care about and felt too shy or anxious, too afraid that someone wasn't feeling welcome or fitting in (if I was in charge), too worried I'd say something odd or weird, or wouldn't quite fit it, or wouldn't be able to present myself well... I was thinking about this because one of those friends tried to set me up on a sort of "hey I met someone, can I introduce you?" and 99% of me was like... I meet people constantly... don't you think I meet people?  Its not meeting people that's the problem, its having the right way of meeting them in which I can enjoy their presence and they mine, and that is not on a sort of blind date. That's not ever how I have met anyone I liked.    But its weird to have that idea the same day I am wondering if I should get back on dating apps.  What kind of barriers do I put in my own way. 

Anyway... seeing the niece and nephew was fun. I started to get anxious that people would arrive and I'd have to explain myself so I dipped out after a couple hours. I went for a walk around the lake. It was kind of cold but it was fucking beautiful out. The trees are all budding, the weeping willows yellow against a blue sky. The lake was clear, but clearly growing life, the birds were out and kind of fierce. It was beautiful, but I hadn't eaten much lunch and I found myself drifting towards complaints rather than beauty and awe. At one point I asked myself... why are you so determined to be angry? and I couldn't answer... but I was. I guess I feel wronged, and I am not sure what to do with that feeling, and its turning me into an angry teenager rather than someone capable and adult like... So I was thinking of how my anxiety is showing up again with my family... and how for several years it had gone away because I was secure in myself. I had a relationship. I felt like my life was going somewhere. Now I am wondering if there is a future again... or whether I'll run away to latin america or south east asia... or take out a warehouse kind of thing.  

Whats the point of my life?   I wrote something like that down this morning before I left... what is my dharma here on this earth. I mean, maybe I am supposed to forgive and forget, let myself be taken advantage of, caretake others... That was the meaning I made early on, maybe it was the right path.  I am trying to renegotiate that idea... that my romantic relationships and family relationships aren't based on my taking care of other peoples needs. That I can ask to have mine met... that we can trade off, or take responsibility for our own together. But I don't really have a lot of examples in which I feel I've been successful at that.  But I dunno... I guess I just don't really know what I am supposed to be doing. 

I had another thought, based on a sermon someone was giving about earthday -that later fed into the thoughts I was having on the walk... what if Earth is not a rock, or a school, or a spaceship we ride on, but a being in herself. What if pachamama is a being. What if we are the bacteria on her skin, and we really are just acting like an infection, replacing plant life and other microbes with ourselves... were giving our mother diarrhea and so of course she will need to kill us off, just as we would take an antibiotic. What if none of it is personal. What if its as simple as a being trying to find the balance that fuels her without burning her out. What if all this egocentric thinking is just craziness.  I was thinking the same at the lake. Staring out at the drops of water that collect into such a mass, tiny ripples and in each you can see these universes... and there is always a slight sense of awe in the idea that maybe we are meaningless -as much as it may upset our western thinking.  Maybe my little drop of water of a life is utterly pointless in the grand scheme of things, maybe I don't need to prove myself, or prove to others, maybe I'll live, and dust away, life being none the wiser in the grand scope of the universe, my being has so little impact. Not that it doesn't I mean a virus can be deadly right? but just in the larger system, I accumulate, speak, and then dissipate.  So miniscule, so weightless...

I took a break to scroll on facebook and I think I found confirmation that E is dating someone. I've been thinking that since around February right? I should look it up.  I had a feeling of jealousy, warmth... not necessarily anger or anything, just that heat. I think this is what I wanted for her, so I hope it works out. I also found that my old coworkers memorial service was today. Turns out I am not in the know about things. My coworker was so young. 

I was having this weird curious feeling that something has happened to E's grandparents. I know they weren't doing well, and the last time I talked to her she said she was going out to see them -hence the snooping. 

Its funny it like stole away all the other thoughts I had.  Let me see if I can get back to that... something about how the flip side of our egotistical stories in which we are constantly searching for meaning and purpose and a desire to feel like we did something, can claim something, are profound in our own journeys... is that actually, is that we have the weight of a bacteria, or an ant, or a speck of dust, or a blade of grass, and add just as much, and subtract just as much... and this isn't to say we shouldn't be grateful or open or thankful, or strive or whatever... but just to say, it isn't that big of a deal right? 

It's not that big of a deal.

I hope E can find someone to have a baby with, I know she wants that. I hope its a good fit. 

I want the same for me. Despite all those egoless ideas I just wrote about... I want some of my dreams to come true too. A blade of grass can dream. 

Part2.

I walked away... but continued to process. There is a part of me that is really frustrated with my angst. That's what it feels like. I feel so obsessed with my own thinking, my own feelings and neediness. 

If E is dating someone, there is a part of me that feels free... but that part isn't speaking much right now, instead I feel alone. I've been thinking about how narcissistic it is that I keep people around, get my little chew and then head off. That has been part of the reason I haven't been reaching out or pursuing her, if she wants distance, and that is good for her... and then that is what I have to accept. But I've been missing her lately, and now I am gonna have to grieve just a bit more. Then find my own way I guess. 

But the angst isn't just her... its the stuff with my Dad... its the stuff with the world. 

As a friend and I were talking about yesterday, its such an endless heartbreak, anger making stew to see possibility in the world, to be creative or bright enough to know that there are solutions... and then to see people squander the opportunity. The wealthiest nation in the history of the world, and we can't even house, feed, and heal people without putting them into debt, trauma, slavery. We could have a better world, but we choose not to. 

I'm angsty because I feel entitled to the things that are possible, but if I am honest, I'm not reaching for them either. I am not sure I want to. I have a client who is 19 and determined to chase his dreams no matter the cost, but also wont mow the lawn... I am a 42 yr old man who is educated and wealthy, and has traveled the world and owns his own business and lives a decent life, and is too scared to go to a family gathering.  I mean...  what is anything? I need to stop taking myself so damn seriously... but that's hard when I am also simultaneously trying to establish boundaries. Its a real will he wont he kind of situation. 

I have like 25 sessions this week. It's gonna be a lot -especially when I am not really feeling that grounded. On Tuesday I have therapy. That part of why I am overthinking right now... I am talking to my therapist in my head... trying to get my story straight. WTF. 

Life is soooo weird. I was gonna say dumb, but the lake was so beautiful today. My niece and nephew are a lot of fun. 

You do it to yourself, you do, and thats what really hurts.

Friday night on the town...

 Not really. 

Where to start?

Last night I went to an open mic and it was really fun. I will definitely go back. In the middle of the night, I found myself practicing poems, which of these could be performed? which are better for a book?

Today the weather changed again. It was cold and rainy and will be (at least cold) all weekend. The last few nights it's been hard to sleep because my apartment is too warm, but I didn't want the air on. I felt like there were mosquitos flying around though never confirmed any. So I am not sure how much sleep I got last night, but I distinctly remember being up wayyyyy past my bed time. 

I only had three clients today. The first was easy. The second a little off-putting. The third hard but still good. 

At some point in the day my Step Mom asked me specifically whether I was coming to my Dad's birthday party in early May. Couple weeks away. It took me hours to steel my resolve. To say thank you for organizing this, I am not sure I can commit yet, I'll let you know if that changes. Yesterday's sunny weather and happy go lucky disposition had switched sometime in the night, and I woke up angry again, or at least averse. I am not sure what I am waiting for... there is an invitation to forgive and forget... but that doesn't heal anything. 

My parents are both turning 70 this year. There is some pressure to show up... 

Anyway... around 3 when I had finished my work day, and was listening to some youtube video about Allah prior to islam in the arab world, I realized I was getting sleepy and decided that I better send the text before it feels like its been draggin all day. 

I did. 

I fell asleep. I woke up to a thankyou.

I woke up several hours later after somewhat restless yet dream filled sleep. 

In one of my dreams I was attending a concert or performance. My client who had been somewhat difficult earlier in the day was sitting next to me. She seemed to be wanting it to be a date. At some point I had to set a boundary and she became angry. For the rest of the dream it felt like she was stalking me. The concert ended, and I snuck away to a movie theater (I was planning on seeing a movie tonight). I remember trying to fit in, and find a seat in which I had a view of others, but in which I could also hide. 

It was odd. 

When I woke up, I felt like I'd wasted the day. I did a quick spanish lesson and realized I had literally nothing important to do. I decided to go to the later movie (after missing the initially intended one). 

Went to Grandview Theater in St. Paul. Apparently so did everyone else because the theater was packed on this cold rainy day. Saw Project Hail Mary. It was good, but I wasn't like "oh my god the best movie ever."  The science fiction elements were interesting and also cute. There was humor and beauty and probably the most impactful thing was the element of friendship between a lonely human -who was both used to being rejected and also self rejecting -- and his alien friend. 

I left the theater quickly, seeing lots of beautiful faces, thinking about friends and lovers. I realized very quickly that I was lonely -walking back to my car, driving home alone in the dark. It made me recognize that part of my not going out much anymore is because I am sick of doing it alone.  Its so exciting to have experiences, and so lonely to have them by yourself. Why stay out late? Why venture... 

I got home and was folding laundry, singing the Johnny Cash version of "hurt" and thinking about E. Missing being loved, or as I recognized later, appreciated? Accepted?  believed in?   There were elements of our relationship -especially toward the end, that I didn't feel loved or appreciated. And I didn't necessarily feel those things back. But I miss having a companion none the less. 

Maybe I should get on dating apps? 

My friend said something funny about dating someone in their 20s... The idea of that is kind of shocking to me. I know she was dating people significantly older than her at that time... I am attracted to younger faces, but its so uncomfortable when you recognize the cultural and life experience gaps. I don't want to raise my partner. Lately... since I've been feeling like a teenager, I wonder if I am waiting for someone to raise me up. 

A friend I met in Guatemala once told me that, she said I needed to meet someone 5 years older than me, so I could practice being taken care of. 

Anyway. The two people who recommended or liked this movie were both single and somewhat lonely people. I asked one if she wanted to get coffee in the morning and haven't heard anything. 

I think I am back to a subtle level of depression. That feeling like if my life ended it wouldn't be that big of a deal. 

The client who was being somewhat difficult today brought up the idea of human sacrifice as an every day practice. How systems at all levels are generally very open to human sacrifice we just don't call it that anymore. It's a good point. 

I don't like that I live on my own and have my own business, and still feel entirely beholden to entities that I wouldn't choose... insurance companies, corporations, cult of death republicans...

Tomorrow. Dinner with a friend. Reading and writing?  Coffee? 

What AM I DOING!?!?!?!?!?!

Rebellion

I woke up crabby again today. Watched church, couldn't relate... kept looking for excuses to turn it off. Got groceries. Did Spanish. Paid taxes. My Dad had asked me if I wanted to go for a walk. It was the first thing I woke up to. I grumbled about it all day, but decided I needed the exercise. He didn't get back to me till about 3ish. I was checking off all the things on my list. 

I miss walking around the lake. I need to get over there more often. I considered starting to walk around the river. I need to figure out a path so that it is a circuit instead of up and down. It was so warm out that tons of people were walking. But my focus was entirely on the conversation. Recognizing even while we were walking that I was not aligned, present, etc. I was waiting... eventually we talked about the ongoing fight. He did the same old thing. I stood my ground, gave my reasons, got self righteous. Told him its funny that he continues to ask me to be the one to come back and make amends or work through it. 

I told him I was still too impacted by things that are ongoing - to keep the peace. 

I told him I guess I'll just be angry for a while... and that's how it will be. 

At some point he was trying to convince me that my step mom didn't mean it the way I heard it... but I don't believe that. I actually think my Dad isn't convinced either... he just wants to play happy family, and I watched his face as he tried to figure out how to make a point to get through to me, or to figure out a way to problem solve his wife... and it pains him that he can't figure out a solution that works for him... 

I said, its funny that you come to me...you could ask your wife to reach out... if you think that she wasn't conveying her perspective well, then you can have her write it out and I'll read it...but I am not convinced. 

He said, You want her to have empathy for your side... 

I basically said yeah... I want her to recognize that her side was afraid, and backing people to cause actual pain and suffering to my side...  if that's the terms we are using. 

I know I am the kind of person who hears what I want to hear... and I also know my Dad is. And I also know that he says things to keep the peace. He is one person when we are walking around the lake, and another when he is with her.  

Its funny though.  I have actual righteous anger again... yes, like a teenager full of angst...but not the sitting around feeling sorry for myself, disconnected, numbing out anger. I might get some of that later tonight. But in the meantime... 

I dunno what to do. I feel like I am being petty sometimes... but also, again, I don't like that I am being asked to make the peace. I don't like that for the next month I will be guilted about it. 

I don't always know what I care about or believe in... but this one feels personal and righteous, and if its not a big deal to them, then they can be the ones who apologize. 

Its been so hard to just take care of myself and be part of things lately. I am feeling burnt out. But today I followed through with all the tasks (except poetry). I don't know what is next, but I am feeling like I am at least holding my ground. 

9:58 PM where are you now?

 

I'm sitting at my kitchen island, in the apartment my friend says is great.  She came over for dinner and watched a couple episodes of Shrinking, then got antsy and left. Pulling out of depression, but more anxious and energized. Who knows what is right for any of us. 

Watching shrinking made me cry multiple times and laugh a lot too. There is a longing that my heart feels right now, for something real, for some tenderness, closeness. My friend says I should meet someone in the elevator, and I can only think of how many times I've wanted to put my head down or look at my phone or wait to get the next one. Reluctantly eager? Eagerly reluctant? 

I have been feeling this loneliness for a while and I don't want to let it in too much. I find that I am spending way too much time distracting. Way too much time trying to get shallow needs met through shallow means.   But at the coffee shop today (where I also cried, for a different reason), I didn't see a single person I really found attractive. I didn't know them. I didn't really want to know them. My only real interaction was with a girl who has downs syndrome and said "hello neighbor" to everyone. She was sweet. I thought it was interesting that I could stare at a whole room full of people and not find a single one attractive. It made me wonder if there was someone wrong with me, or a validation that I really haven't had a crush on anyone new for a while. 

Life is harder that way...  The receptionist at the tax agency was very nice. I could have tried to flirt. but... meh. 

I tried to pay my taxes today and did it wrong. I got a little scared that I might have screwed things up but I think I can fix it tomorrow or Monday.  I got a little overwhelmed that I wouldn't be able to save enough for taxes... apparently if you don't pay 90% of your expected amount, you can be fined. I was fined already once... and I don't want that to be a habit... but it took me a while to realize that I think I can make it work for my budget, I just have to get in the habit. I am really not making much after all my expenses. It kind of made me feeling like I was doing something wrong. 

Then I went to the coffee shop and read a book. And it felt good for awhile, but then my step mom texted everyone about my dad's birthday, and instead of feeling the normal 'ok, i guess its a responsibility' I got angry, and kind of scared. It felt like another thing that weighed me down.  After reading a bunch in my book, I picked up two zines on the newspaper rack nearby, and read poems and stories and pictures from people who were driving/observing/reporting ice crap all these months. It was a beautiful little zine (two volumes), creative, inspired, funny, incredibly sad, moving, etc.... it made me cry. And it made me feel more angry at my dad and step mom. Where is the apology for defending the people who attacked my neighbors? My Dad texted tonight, and I don't want to respond. I'm sad, and angry. 

I went out to dinner with my mom last night. We talked about my siblings... talked about life... talked about how the state of the world is so ugly, that you run out of things to say. I want to ask her for advice. I want to ask her how to navigate this world. I want to know cheats and shortcuts, even if I don't take them. I want her to tell me that there is a path forward. 

At some point, it kind of feels like my relationship with my mom changed a little. She told me she believed in me and that I could work it out... so I stopped going to her every time I had a big deal problem... waited until it came up naturally. 

I guess I am feeling a little alone in things.   People text. I don't respond. People are reaching, suggesting, supporting, and I don't follow up.  The main character in Shrinking is so flawed and loveable... but everyone is annoyed with him because he is distant, avoiding, being reactive, consumed in his own stuff. 

Today I got a haircut. Paid 28$ and the moment I got in the car I saw that it was uneven. I was already irritable. A mix of low blood sugar and a thunderstorm. I got home and fixed the hair cut. I shaved this morning... so basically I look like a little white boy. But it makes me wonder why I am paying for shit... why I am trying to fit in. Why I am trying so hard to keep up with everything, and not really feeling all that loved or rewarded. I feel like I have been letting myself down sooooo much lately. 

Sure maintaining an apartment, and a business, but not exercising... not eating great... my sleep schedule is all over the place. I keep saying I am going to write poems and then I don't want to write. I have given up on guitar. I have maintained spanish. 

I see a friend once a week, and sometimes text with others... but I am not really involved with anything, not engaged for my own sake... doing my job, surviving... but not thriving like it might appear. 

I am lonely, and not feeling great I guess. Maybe some of it is the weather/headaches, but I can feel myself dragging a little with clients. Not really wanting to do my job. I can jumpstart myself into it... but I am not feeling all that good. 

I guess, I don't feel loved?  I don't feel loving? 

Last week my therapist asked me if I was somewhat dissociative. I was... it was a mix of me avoiding my own stuff and being overwhelmed by others. I wasn't grounded in myself. I wasn't centered. 

Wednesday and Friday mornings, I woke up feeling better. On Wednesday I wrote a poem in my head about wearing a slippery winter coat that didn't fit right. How people were poking and prodding and trying to help, but my arm would get caught coming out of the wrong hole, or it would end up backwards, because it wasn't me... I and everyone else was mistaking the coat for me. But me was somewhere underneath as the role/coat slid around me. No wonder I don't feel grounded... I feel suffocated. I feel prodded. I feel like people are grabbing at me. I feel like something is wrong and I can't find my way through it. A little kid caught in their clothes? 

I was thinking about how hard it is to be aligned with yourself. How hard when the president threatens to end the world, when the price of everything is too high, when a worker burns down their work place, or shoots the ceo, because the costs of living are just not tenable given the wages we make. My records show I should be making 8-10k a month, my bank account says... 7? I suppose I should look at that again. 

I haven't felt like going to church. Often times I watch online (like in winter), and then feel like its not that great. I wonder if I need to go in person. Or maybe try somewhere new. 

I know it would be good to do a class or something. I know it would be good to be involved, have a commitment on the calendar. I dunno what I am complaining about... I mean I do. I am living the life of a single person who is very used to that... but doesn't actually prefer being singly. 

E doesn't really reach out. Maybe its for the best.   

So often I get really inspired by like a good tarot reading or something...but nothing happens. 

I almost want more of an excuse for my misery than it is my own fault for not being more involved with folks. Maybe my standards are too high for everything. Maybe I am impossible to live with. 

I dunno. In therapy I was realizing that I feel like my "manager parts" are in charge. Not me... but the parts of me that respond to feeling too vulnerable or too ashamed... I feel like I am going through the motions waiting for someone to shake me awake. But just like other times in my life... I don't really want the people in my life to be the one that reaches out and grabs me. I don't want those relationships to change much... I dunno. 

I could imagine things personally and the world getting a lot worse before it gets better. 

It was funny how much my own stuff seemed like it was fitting for what others were going through this week.  

I think I can maintain. 

But I know this part is very similar to the parts of my clients who are 20-30 years older than me, and wondering ... well if this is it ... why try? 

Yeah... I dunno either sometimes. Henri Nouwen keeps saying that suffering and pain are part of it... that its what we should take to G-d... makes us part of a greater thing. Funny to choose pain and suffering... grace and love by way of pain. 

I dunno... I should probably go to bed. I guess I just wanted to complain a bit. 

Dream

 Just woke up from a dream.

In the dream I was in southern Italy, walking around a small town. I noticed at first that this town had a particular layout, then some familiar spots, and ultimately realized I’d been there before. A market is coming up on the left. There is a church over there. 

The dream actually began with the collapsing of a building. It was unclear if there were survivors. 

Along the way I had different travel companions. At one point it might have been someone I was trying to impress, because I was reading the menu for them and practicing my Italian or Spanish or something. I knew I only wanted chicken and fries (which is much more a Latin America thing).  

At one point my travel companion was very clearly k. We locked up our stuff together at a hostel or bus station, and then later in the dream she left as I continued to wander. It wasn’t until late in the day when I had taken pictures of buildings and art, of churches and the lake, and of people watching, the wedding party, the stylish folks, -and then the sun was setting and I was ready to find a bed or a way out of town - and I realized it was her lock on the locker. I made my way back wondering if I’d even have a backpack to grab… I got more and more anxious. 

When I finally got back to the spot with the lockers people were closing down. It was getting late. I eyed each person suspiciously. I went to the lockers and began opening the ones without locks. Some were empty. Some had small things others had left. And finally in one, I found all of my stuff, but no bag to put it in. 

It made me laugh. I was relieved. After all there was nothing particularly valuable it was just spare clothes and a journal and blah. I stuffed it back in the locker and decided to spend another night in this town I was rediscovering. 

I knew I needed to find a place to stay, and the first obvious idea was to stay at the place with the lockers (which had transformed from a bus station to a hostel). But the staff had already gone home. I wasn’t sure there were beds left, and considered just sleeping on a couch and paying when staff arrived in the morning. 

Another option was to book online, and I was going through the apps trying to connect but my phone kept cutting out right when I was finding the right spots. 

As I was doing this, I eavesdropped on the people around me who were also settling down and sharing about their adventures that day. One girl said she had celebrated Passover and gone to a ritual bath, but it wasn’t clear whether it was for Jewish people or Muslim people. She said it reminded her of her family and she ooozed a feeling of comfort, gratitude, nostalgia… my phone rang and I realized my mom was calling. 

I made the decision to pull away from the girl talking, even though I was intrigued. 

My mom wanted to give me some updates and I figured it was fair to give her mine.  She said something along the lines of -your grandma wants to clean the carpets after the fire. She is nervous that people will see them and think less of her. I remembered there had been a fire. The whole place had collapsed. There was nothing left of the carpet, but I tried to imagine my grandma lifting chunks of the walls to vacuum underneath. My mom threw in a comment that I didn’t quite hear clearly, but seemed to imply so maybe that’s where you get it (anxiety /ocd). 

There was a lull in the convo, so I told her my two big discoveries of the day. 1) I am in a familiar town and enjoying it, even though I didn’t realize and 2) my backpack got stolen in the funniest way possible. 

There was silence again. Ok, well I guess that’s it. Talk to you tomorrow. 

rolling my eyes and wondering how to get out of drama.

 

I keep waking up with that song “The Baton” by Katie Gavin in my head. Maybe it’s the bass and drums at the beginning of the song, a nice hook. But the song reminds me that I am fighting with my Dad and stepmom. So does the calendar on the wall. So does the Benihana and Chipotle gift cards in my wallet. So does my phone, and the AAA membership… and on and on. These are reminders of the fact that my Dad loves me, has invested in my life again and again. Has supported me financially despite always saying he is broke. Has supported my interests throughout my life even when they didn’t quite match with his. And in other cases (like earth day approaching in April) inspired interests in ways I didn’t realize at the time (he used to take us to pick up garbage on earth day/sometimes paired with easter -picking up candy). There are continued reminders in notes, in gifts, in the texts he sends asking me to go for a walk. There are continued reminders also in my own actions… the traits we share, and recently more so than ever in my appearance. I joked with him the last time I saw him, each morning I get to decide which of my uncles I look like today.

My stepmom is an extension of these things. A companion to him that has been present since I was around 6… so 36 years. Someone who cajoles him into things when he is being stubborn, who supports him in his hearing loss, who makes him more social than he might naturally be, and drags him out to try new things against his better judgment. Also, I assume, someone who adds an extra 20 when he is putting the card in the envelope, who adds a second message, who rounds everyone up for all the family meals and makes the home inviting. Someone who cooks all the food (unless he is grilling), and tries to accommodate all the special food needs.

There is also a daily reminder of the conflict. There is the news article that talks about disappeared people, the video of a fight, the song some international pop musician wrote for my city, the daily insults from the president. There are the people on the corner who are still looking out for vehicles. There are the areas of my city that have become memorials. There is an awareness that we are trying to move forward, while discovering the damage done. There are ICE agents in the airport, the joke of the country, but not a joke when they were here trying to intimidate. There are the wars we are starting now, that will only set off another round of migration. There are the families, the clients, my former students who aren’t sure where to get food, or how to pay their bills, or rent.

And there is also the insult to the injustice. The slap in the face that dispels the myth that we are in this together. The reality that my a family member basically said at best “I’m neutral” meaning I am against you and those you care about… the muddying of the waters and playing victim. There is the reality that there is not acknowledgment of the hurt, or anger, or insult, no attempt to apologize for the “difference of opinion,” and the subtle and not so subtle ways that the family dynamic insists that I apologize and make amends for being righteously angry. Justified in my anger. But what am I supposed to do? I can’t wait forever for an apology that won’t come. I can focus on the positives, play nice, and save face, while carrying anger, hurt and defensiveness in my heart. I can start another argument, and leave in a huff or be vile. I can avoid. I can walk away from the love, because maybe I decide that it comes at too high a price… is love without trust, love without acknowledgment love?

I can look at my own insults, the ways I have hurt and ignored, avoided or gone without acknowledging my faults and my responsibilities… blame rather than be accountable. I have done that. Maybe things will just be left messy.

There is also a part of me that wonders if this opens up to something new, something better. A part of me that can give voice to my pain, and say its justified that I show up for myself rather than downplay my feelings for the sake of relationship. Maybe this is me growing up, and naming that blood and custom, don’t make for a satisfactory relationship if you can’t trust that person has your back. Maybe I need to keep my distance to let them know that it was hurtful… because my Dad would sweep it under the rug for peace, just as he taught me to do, just as I have chosen to do countless times.

Even my Mom the other day, kind of said... well you're going to have to let it go to some extent, if you choose to have a relationship with him. Which she knew I would. She doesn't want me to be angry and avoidant... but I don't think she understood just how angry I still am. 

I find it interesting because there are so many parallels to my relationship with E. Times of being hurt and not standing up for myself. Times of feeling like I should bend over backwards to meet her needs because I was capable of doing so. I wonder, often, why if I care about her so much, I am not invested the way I was. Why when I saw her the other night, I didn’t feel relief fully. And I think the truth is that, I got burned, and learned to stop hustling to try to make someone else feel loved at the expense of myself.

Or at least that is what I am hoping to learn.

But I don’t know what to do differently. I still feel responsible.

The baton has been passed unconsciously, and I am trying to do my part in breaking the cycle rather than reinforcing it, to do my part which is more than the previous owners could do. To carry forward means that the person who passed it will fall behind, "I can't come where you are going."  

It's really bitter, sad, disappointing. I am reminded of my Grandpa's shortcomings and how I wanted more wisdom from him. 

I think if I had children -which I still hope to one day. I would have more understanding of how hard it is to grow up, when you don't have any sleep, and you're stressed and these little being need everything from you, and you have to acknowledge you don't have it... that on some level there is just a reality to accept. 

But on another level... there is something that just kills me about a parent playing victim. A friend of mine said that his mom was still wondering why everyone was mad at her, when she was the one pushing them away and betraying their trust... and he was just blunt about it... he told her that it was her decisions and she could choose differently, but I dunno if she got it.   That's kind of where I am with my stepmom... she makes excuses and blames others. Perhaps on some level she is holding stuff for others too... maybe there are secrets that she hasn't let out. But instead of taking responsibility for her stuff and letting others do the same, she plays victim and it becomes drama. 

I am so sick of drama. And I am hooked in it again, playing my role instead of just being me. 

Tuesday

 Last night I struggled to sleep. It was a mixture of having tea at dinner and too much soy sauce (Benihana at MOA). My feet were swollen and I was uncomfortable. Not in pain, but just enough discomfort that it was hard to fully drift off. I wasn't very present though. My mind was not cogent enough to put together any beautiful or creative thoughts, no problem solving, just a nagging. 

When I finally got to sleep, I woke up frequently. So I am tired. 

This morning I had a dream I remembered. In the dream I was going around to different places, at first it felt like I was traveling and adventuring. Eventually it felt more like I was grabbing things from different stores, more like running errands. And then I found myself running late for something. 

It turns out it was a math test. I felt nervous. Upon getting to my seat, I found out that the computer/calculators they were supposed to have given us for the test weren't working. The teacher shrugged and basically said, "do it without them." I felt overwhelmed, felt like there was no possible way for me to pass the test. I barely understood the material with a calculator... I'd been hoping to guess the random right buttons to press and muscle my way through the test to a passing grade... and now. I wanted to give up. I wanted to protest. I wanted to say this isn't fair, and it's not my fault. I wanted to say, fine, I will fail your test and see you next year (like I did in high school).  

I grabbed a paper copy of the test and walked back to my seat. Someone had placed two photo/journal albums at my desk. They were from former students of mine. They were not necessarily about me or the time I spent with them, but collections saying "thank you, we did ok... look at all that we have accomplished because you cared about us." I paged through the journals and letters and poems, not reading them but just enjoying how much thought and effort they had put into it. I looked at the photos, barely recognizing any of these people as they aged into their adulthood. But regardless. I felt fulfilled. I felt proud. I felt like my life had mattered regardless of whether I pass the math test. I couldn't have cared less. 

When I woke up... I still felt some of that residual feeling of accomplishment. Of feeling like someone thought I mattered, that I had contributed, not because I mattered specifically, but because they had felt like they mattered and could accomplish great things. It was just them saying hi, back and back and back. 

I went to Benihana at the Mall of America last night with E. It was good food, we walked the mall for 30 minutes or whatever.... caught up with how the last few months had been going. It felt good, and yet not fully connecting. Felt like there was stuff not being said. She complimented my hair a couple of times. I felt -not necessarily distant, but not exactly comfortable either. There was a distance... I guess thats all I can say. I am not sure what it means, or where it will go. But it felt both good to reconnect, and odd... like maybe we were entering a new chapter in which our spheres dont overlap as much. 

On Sunday I went to a palm sunday protest with my Mom and step Dad. I liked it, but also felt a little like... "our these my people?"  just a bunch of well meaning white folks walking through frog town waving palms. 

Saturday was No Kings, and dinner with Illy. 

I liked the event, but also felt some pangs of tremendous sadness and kind of a frustration with the whole thing.  Something like 3700 people were kidnapped from Minneapolis, and we are celebrating it like its over. Like the good white people stood up and now everyone can relax and be proud of themselves. Its not over. Its still impacting thousands... what are we celebrating? 

I wanted to write something more substantial... want to write about my hope or my desire or the changes I am going to make... but I feel kind of braindead. I guess the shortened version is that it feels like something big will change soon. Maybe its someone dying. Maybe its someone choosing to live differently. I dunno... I just feel like it wont stay this way ... and I won't necessarily have to force my own hand. Maybe that is like wishful thinking... but it feels like things are shifting, Spring is in the air? or something. I am not sure if it will be better or worse.