God dammit this keeps happening. (Polyamory sure does have its ups and downs.) I’m sick and tired of being a pillar holding up every single person I interact romantically with. I’m sick of it. I feel like I constantly have to be the strong one, constantly have to prop other people up when they’re upset, constantly have to worry about the well-being of those around me. You know what I do when I feel like shit? I fucking deal with it! I do my own thing, find my own ways of feeling happy, and only very rarely intentionally burden those around me. That may not be the most healthy thing for me, but I’m mostly pretty stable, and I don’t want to need constant propping up, the way a lot of people in relationships with me seem to be.
And on top of that, I don’t want to tell these people, “Sorry, I can’t take this right now”. Because the last thing I want is for them to hide their depressions and their problems from me. I want to be strong enough to take it, to be that pillar. But I can’t, and I don’t know what to do to minimize harm, or how to handle it, or why this keeps on fucking happening again and again. It’s kind of shit to tell a significant other, “Hey, listen, I’m sorry, but I really can’t handle you being depressed right now”, right? Well, I really can’t handle it right now, so I don’t know what the fuck to do.
I’m so glad you don’t have a brain tumor. And good luck on getting the surgery. I know how frustrating the preliminary stuff can be. I’m sorry you’re going through this.
Snow in the forecast tomorrow night, so I (like everyone else in the neighborhood) decided to get one last mow/leaf pick up done. Until the mower and I ran out of gas. Filled the mower up, but I didn’t have the strength to pull start it.
Now I have a patch 20’ x 20’ of unmowed, leafy yard.
I hate that I no longer have the strength that I used to have. I hate how my body fails me all the time. Stupid body.
Look, we don’t like visiting you for a number of reasons. We live two time zones away and like it that way. Which is why, when we do pay a fair amount of money to fly to where you live, get a hotel, and rent a car, we don’t want to hear that “we’re not staying long enough” when we’re going to be there six nights from Christmas to New Year’s Eve. We’re mostly going to see your baby, who won’t remember anything that happens when she’s eight months old anyway.
five angelic little sweethearts were bored one night, so they decided to play a “game” of chucking shit off of an overpass onto traffic. one of those things was a 20-lb chunk of concrete, which went through the windshield of a car and caved the driver’s skull in, killing him.
then they decided to go eat at McDonald’s.
I am so, so glad I don’t have kids. I can’t comprehend what I would do if I found out my kid did something like that.
After a lifetime of good, strong teeth I suddenly find that my teeth seem to be crumbling to dust. Or “re-absorbing” as my dentist called it this morning. Hopefully it’s not more than one tooth (will find out next week), but he said it wasn’t poor hygiene that caused it, so that leaves menopause or other systemic calcium/mineral problems.
He liked the x-ray, though. (a hollowed out shell of a tooth) And I quote: “Wow”
I’ll add that to the list of things you don’t want to hear a dentist say. When I went in for a root canal, my dentist said “Ooo!” while he was drilling for the canal part. Turns out that the root had started to go a bit necrotic.
My father died last month and while the services went beautifully, the aftermath of paperwork and life without him has been difficult. I keep looking in on my Mom and I wonder if I’m hovering too much. Are my responses to anything appropriate? Then I got some throat infection, which sets me back further in my already behind in everything life.
The worst part of playing handbells at all three services is listening to the same announcements (and bad jokes) three times in a row.
The worst part of the morning’s services was being nagged about not “shouting” enough on a song that I don’t know, and isn’t in a good register for me to sing out on. (And besides, like half of everyone in fall, I’ve got some post-nasal drip going on and just generally . . . not great for my voice).
There’s your problem. The handbell choir isn’t supposed to sing.
Did you notice that you were the only one belting (or “shouting”?) “A miiiiiiighty for-OR-tresss, Ih-is ourrrr Goddddd…”
Well, I sing in the church choir, so yes, I was expected to sing. Although the “song” in question was actually intended to be congregational singing, so it wasn’t just the bell choir or the choir, but everyone in the sanctuary being nagged.
I wish we’d been singing “A mighty Fortress . . .” that’s a good song, with compelling lyrics, and a tune, and each verse has different words. (Because of the pastoral nagging, we got “stuck” on a praise chorus, singing it about 4 times in a row. It wasn’t awesome the first time, and was less awesome the fourth time).
I’m so sorry about your father. As for your mom, why don’t you ask her if you’re hovering too much or if she appreciates your presence? I’m pretty sure it will be the latter.
