Archive for the ‘sacrifice’ Category

Breaking the cycle of negativity…

I grew up knowing that my mother was different than everyone else’s mom. It was something I had to learn to accept, though to this day I’m not sure I did until this year.  I wasn’t the easiest child during those early years either. I’m sure I still am not in her eyes. But somewhere along the way from childhood to adulthood, I’ve just stopped resenting her.

This year was the first time in my life that when people asked me of my spiritual beliefs I could truly say that I was very spiritual. Maybe not in the “traditional” Southern Bible Belt way, but I pray and I put faith in more things than I have ever in my life. My head is spinning with change.  Positive change. A word so overused this year but very appropriate to my growing. Discovering who I am was never something I felt I had to journey but somehow I am on one and I’m not as scared as I thought I would be.

I’ve always loved my mother, but one word I can never put to her is the word change. She’s just not a fan. Though her words from years gone by are less harsh, they still hold weight in my heart. She is manic depressive. I have to tell myself that everyday when I think of what she may have said or what I anticipate her saying. Even though she is more well than not through medication, she still is the mother I watched have breakdown after breakdown and I for one was a child who had to grow up fast.

This morning was a breakthrough for me in all of this I’ve just written. No matter what you try to attach to what shapes my mother, beyond her control or otherwise, one word I have to associate with her is negativity. She is a wonderful woman, loving and kind and I don’t say this as a way to insult her passive aggressively. But as I move along in my path in life, and as she has so much trouble accepting much of it, her general words on it all are not supportive. For years I craved acceptance and for years to come I will have to forget about asking or wishing for it. And in growing I have to shut my mind and ears off to words that will no longer help…especially these: “You know IT runs in the family.”

Let me tell you about IT. My grandmother, uncle and mother are very familiar with IT — mental illness.  Suddenly a mention of having trouble getting out of bed or the fact that I have been working on projects to help non-profits seems all to familiar to my mother. “You have highs and lows. You always want to do different things.”  What I reminded her of is that I have a thyroid disorder as I’ve mentioned in this blog before and so does she. The thyroid has much to do with mood and all around general health. And in the mornings that I have trouble pulling myself from the covers, I don’t dread my life. I’m just tired. And through my wanting to help people anyway I can, I’m not overly simulated with mania, I just want to make a difference.

I let her know today that I have to break this cycle of negativity. We have to as our own selves. We have to make our own path and follow it even if it feels scary. Even if your family doesn’t approve. You just have to take YOUR step. No one else can do it for you. And not everyone will applaud when you take it.

Thursday??

So I cheated. Once 10:30 p.m. hit  and my father left my apartment after another long day of moving crap,  I cracked open a beer and decided to hop on my blog a day early from the hiatus. The move is FINALLY over. And I’ve got shit everywhere and don’t know where the hell it’s going.

The plus? AWESOME neighbors and a five-minute walk to the lake. I’ve made some sacrifices afterall! But yea, you guys are right, I think a house is calling my name next time.

You all left some fun comments I enjoyed. Thanks for stopping by. I’ll be sure to seethe opinions and smartass-ness tomorrow when I’m coherent. As well as catch up on all your blogging. And can I just add, a lot of people are Googling about working and booze. Search engine randomness strikes again.

(forgive any misspellings…my eyes are crossing…)

Hi, my name is J. and I’m a serial renter…

Is it a disease?

I’ve been renting apartments for nearly ten years now. When does it stop? Geez, my credit isn’t anywhere near the problem I’ve recently discovered. The problem is that I can’t commit. However I don’t think that is the case everywhere in my life. I commit to my work, my drive and my goals. But I just can’t take hold of the idea of settling into a permanent home. I end up saying stuff like, “What if I one day land a job in New York?” Or, “What if I get ballsy enough to drop everything and take up residence in London?” Silly thoughts, actually.

For me the result of serial renting has amounted to collecting and then evaluating. I’ve got crap for just about every room of a real home — all crammed into a measly multi-family establishment. By the time I’ve jumped on to the next place I sit around evaluating what to throw out again. That’s most of the battle. Stuff I got from people I don’t even talk to anymore are the first things I want to get rid of but then I get all sentimental and say maybe I should keep it. Then end up deciding against it because it’s super sad to hold on to things. Constant moving seems to be an exercise of therapy, that’s for sure.

And in fact my serial renting may have something to be said for my idea of relationships. I think I’ve always liked the idea of a relationship but when it comes down to it, I don’t think I could commit fully. I don’t mean cheating. I mean making sacrifices. Married people always say that stuff about marriage being a sacrifice. Fact remains, I like concentrating on just me. Is this vicious, vain circle?

The pros of both settling into a home and settling into a relationship are there. Having a home means no longer having to constantly move. Being your own boss of where you dwell. Having a completely committed relationship means your compromises can bring you closer to your mate.

Both have cons as well, however. Having a home means when there is something broken in the home, you have to hire someone to fix it. Having a completely committed relationship means when something is broken, it’s completely up to you to fix it. Then hire someone if you can’t!

Ok. I’ve confessed. Where are the refreshments? I was told I would get coffee and cookies at this meeting.

Oh Saint Sacrifice, tell me about Atlas again…

 Everyone sacrifices for Photo by Steve Pinkersomething. I’ve been told time and time again by those wiser, those older, those close to me that it is part of obtaining or the result of someone’s love.  And when you do so, you can’t say one person’s sacrifice is more trying than the other. I know of only one person in my life who has sacrificed so much for me and who I care about. My father carries the weight of the world on  his shoulders, so to speak. As did the mythological Atlas. And everyday he does, he doesn’t remind you how much he has given up or what he’s been through while he holds on tight, making sure the troubling Earth doesn’t plummet into the sea.

Though he carries this world well, I wish so much that I can stand under its weight right along with him and share in the pain. My father not only raised me, put me through a decent education and tried/tries to guide me down the right path, but he has also had to do so while caring for my mother–his wife–who is mentally ill.

I know of so many who sacrifice. I too have done my share.

But my father is someone I can say without the slightest reservation that even though he carries the weight of the world, he doesn’t believe it revolves around his weary shoulders.