Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Struggle to the Surface

My 19-year-old has now been accepted for SSI. I helped him file was because his needs are greater than what I can provide since he wants to live semi-independently. He's very excited about the ability to live away from me which I easily understand since at that age I would rather have chewed off my fucking foot than lived with my parents. At his age, I already had a one-year-old child and had jumped into adulthood with both feet. I discovered adulthood to be less of a struggle than what my parents made it out to be. After living 18 years with them, the new hell was preferable. I don't know how my boy will do in the real world. I know I can't buffer him forever. The lessons I learned were such tough ones, and I learned them with an average intellect, although I was socially retarded from my strange upbringing. It only took me a few years to figure some stuff out, and he's like a young teen in some ways.

The living situation he desires isn't really going to be like throwing him to the wolves. He'll have some daily assistance with finances and other things that haven't crossed his radar before. He'll probably have roommates of similar functioning. At least with other people at his life level, I hope he won't have to struggle with people taking advantage of his loneliness and willingness to make friends. I hope.

He's very high-functioning and very odd. His speech is rather disjointed and he'll discuss certain subjects inapropos of situation. He is somewhat like Sheldon Cooper in both good ways and bad. His restlessness and stress radiate from him like heat when he's struggling. He's tall and blonde and grown-up looking, and unless you talk to him, you might not notice his struggle. You might notice that he has a strange gait, I guess, if you saw him walking down the street.

I love him so much. I hope he really knows that. I hope he doesn't ever know how scared I am for him.

Monday, September 17, 2012

Snarky Little Fuckers

Certain people have that uber-critical air about them that nothing can shed them of. The thing you did correctly yesterday is now the very thing you know better than to have done today, in their haughty eye. Well, here's how I feel about this snifter of bu-shwa:

Fuck off. I have learned to accept that I cannot please you whether or not I try, so just take a fucking leap. I see now that this is YOUR problem, and this is what makes you a very difficult person to be around. The things that you want change with the breeze. I wish you had it in you to change, but - Wish in one hand, shit in the other - see which one fills up first! And all I get for wishing is a handful of crap. If you like me - if you loathe me - it doesn't matter to me right now. I am what I am, and what I am  most of all right now is pissed. So there. I know I cannot say this shit to your face without creating a war that is unwinnable, so I will take my strikes right here - where anyone who has had to deal with the likes of  you can commiserate and get in their jabs, too.

Yes, ma'am. If you could just fuck right on off over there, that'd be great. Mmmmmkay?

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Amazing Gift

I just took a spontaneous Sunday afternoon nap and received the greatest unsolicited gift in the form of a dream. I can't explain it well, but it was about flying. It was very realistic and beautiful, just stunning and freeing.

I've had dreams about flying a handful of times before, but never like this.

I wish I could share this dream with everyone who wants good dreams, life, freedom. No fear, just beauty.

For everyone.

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Well, Then.

This weekend was my niece's christening, at which I was worried the mom would make a big fat ugly scene. As it turned out, she had plenty of attention from others, which was great for me. I really only spoke to her once for about five minutes, but it was during a time when we were surrounded by others. At that time, she blurted out the laundry list of things she's going through right now, like she knew I had her on a time limit and she had to get everything in. That was about the time I had to go.

There is a big disconnect between the way I thought she would act and the way she actually did. I'm pleasantly, yet uncomfortably, baffled. She didn't pull any croc tears or guilt trips, although that could be explained away by her not wanting the people who were paying attention to her to see it. It could also be explained that she was receiving her required attention from another source and the fact that it wasn't me was a moot point. She didn't try to corner me AT ALL, which was fantastic, but it makes me wonder what the fuck she's up to. Is this a game? Maybe some of her N-traits have left. (Yeah, bullshit.)

I am relieved that baby's christening did not become "All About Granny." It strikes me that during the brief time she had to speak with me, she didn't ask about my eldest son, who did not come with us. She talked non-stop about herself. This was her abridged version of "All About Granny."

The thing is, after all the tears and guilt she's thrown at me in the past, she seemed not-at-all upset about my low-contact. Which is great - I think? I don't want to hurt her. I guess that my not meaning that much to her overall happiness, though, is a dichotomy from how she has presented in recent history.  She found other sources. She's fine.

I'm really not, but I wouldn't be, regardless.

Yesterday, I picked up a book I read some years ago, and I decided to read it again. It's called "The Secret Life of the Lonely Doll" by Jean Nathan. It's a true story about Dare Wright, an incredibly talented woman who created a whole line of children's books a few decades ago. Her mother was a narcissist who stole any chance of a normal life this woman had. It's a sad, fascinating story. When I read this book initially, I didn't recognize her mother as a narcissist. Knowing what I know now, it's more sad, but it's an interesting story. For those of us who escaped, it's something of a "what could have happened" kick-in-the-jaw.