Heh, where is the music setting on this new client. Can’t find it, so I’ll just post I’m having an Annie Lennox, Nick Cave, Jane Siberry, Dead can Dance moment. I’m pulling it all into my library and listening to things I haven’t in awhile.
Dead can Dance used to be the favored ‘romance’ music. It has turned to Bel Canto. The love of your life cannot kiss you in candlelight to the same music that the
“significant, but not everlasting” one did.
So all this, and the loss of Miss Ninny brings me back to …to really wishing I were in an utterly different time.
I have to say…that I would never wish to be apart from J or the Bean. I love them both more than I’ve ever thought possible. J has given me a life I imagined but never hoped to have with a gentleman ( I choose that word for a reason, he is). And The Bean, only the best ever joy beyond all imagining. I couldn’t be a luckier person.
That said…
I wish I were 17 years old sitting in Wilson Park during our “phabulous phebruary (redacted) Phrolics” or even just at this time in 1982. Before Amy died. Before my father died. I’d like to befull of possibility. Before …before all the horrid things that have happened this year. Really. There are a number of years I’d like to not erase…but as much as I’ve loved the friends of the last year and the good times and holidays and interactions, I swear I would erase this year if I could. However much it may have grown me and changed me.
It’s like this. I’m glad to be back in F’ville. I love the folks I’ve reconnected with and the new folks we’ve befriended. I like the climate (mostly–hey anything is better than Chicago’s six months of winter)but good GOD how much can happen to one family in one year? I worry about being histrionic about this, so I cut my reactions down to the nub. I hide. I start to talk to people, then pull back because I don’t want to be overplaying the entire situation. I think, I think maybe it has been too hard and sometimes I’d like to hole up in a hotel room and scream for 48 hours straight. Then sleep for a week.
Really, we put my/our 17 and a half year old kitty to sleep on the day before my birthday. It is about as pretty as a punched in face.
I’m finding it hard to be an adult recently. I’d like to scream. A lot. I’d like to run and hide. I’d like to not have to face so much, so relentlessly.
I’d like to know how I’m “supposed” to feel. I’d like to know just how much angst is warranted by moving back home, reconnecting with my family after many contentious years(good but hard), having 2. 5 miscarriages, losing a longtime kitty member of the family, having serious surgery and repeated issues with that surgery and not once but TWICE J’s job changing unexpectedly. Oh and starting Kindergarten with the Bean? Wow, that was/is intense in a not unexpected but still serious way. If you add in how worried I am about my mother and stepfather….
And that whole what do I do with the next phase of my life now that I can’t have my former career anymore thing?
I actually think I’m leaving some other horrible things out, but I guess I’m hitting the highlights.
So is it normal that I’m not acting normally? Is it normal that I don’t know which way is up half the time and the other half the time I’m viciously maintaining what I think is normalcy?
I don’t know. I just don’t know.
