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wrung out
February 14, 2011
Yesterday was the fourth anniversary of my brother's suicide. Which would have made it a sucky enough weekend, without throwing in a thorough housecleaning, laundry, making lasagna, shopping, designing funeral cards, sorting through hundreds of photos, consoling my brother-in-law...
and going to the emergency room at 9:00 pm on a Sunday night because Nephew and his girlfriend were in a serious car accident.
Yep. They are mostly okay; she has a broken femur and he is banged up, but he's been "treated and released", as they say. His sweetie is still in the hospital, after her leg surgery. She might be released tomorrow.
We didn't get home till after 11:00, and I wasn't able to get to sleep till after midnight. I am so tired that I can't keep my eyes open. I get up at 4:30, and four hours of sleep isn't nearly enough.
A couple of funny things about this family, though. It is big, messy, and looks awfully disfunctional, but when a 19-year-old kid goes to the emergency room, and there are thirteen assorted family members in the waiting room before they even get him to x-ray...well, the love and concern seems to be functioning quite nicely, there.
I'm not kidding. Nephew had the following group dancing attendance: Mom, Step-Dad, Dad, "Sort of" Step-mom, sister, step-sister, half-brother, "Sort of" step-brother, two aunts, and three uncles. Cause that's how we roll.
And another funny thing--When we found out they had to cut Nephew's pants off him, we took a count of how many of the fourteen family members at the hospital last night had experienced having their pants cut off in the emergency room. It was nearly fifty percent! Nephew (car accident), Niece (bike accident), Dad (car accident), Step-dad (industrial accident), and two uncles (both bike accidents). I'm beginning to think I don't like the odds!
Just wanted to note that once again, I took the trouble to buy Spouse a token gift (bag of holiday M&Ms) and a lovely card for Valentine's Day, and got nothing in return. When I heard him come in last night, I heard a rustling noise that made me briefly entertain notions of roses in cellophane. Turned out to be a frozen pizza and a loaf of bread in a plastic shopping bag. Sigh.
And if anyone is wondering, there are still a few cigarettes floating around in my life, but keeping it in the 0 to 3 per day range. I'm sorry, but the relentless onslaught of drama in the last three weeks has added a level of complexity to this quit that I cannot seem to get around.
It seems to be the consensus that "You have to want to change". You cannot seek help from any source without seeing or hearing those words. But how do you make yourself want it? THAT is what I need help with, and I cannot find any useful assistance in that department. The few items I've found on the subject were fatuous crap and offered no real solution.
I just cannot get my mind to come round. No matter what angle I approach it from, I feel like something is being taken from me, that I am being screwed over yet again by life and by circumstances outside my control. Whether I look at it economically, socially, or from a health-related viewpont--I am being denied something I that I want. Not just talking about the cigarette, either. Talking about autonomy, self-determination, independance, freedom. The freedom to choose how I spend the money I work to earn. The freedom to snatch five fucking minutes for myself.
Reading:Hobby--"The Voice from the Cave" (1944), by Mildred A. Wirt (Penny Parker #12). "The Three Margarets" (1897), "Margaret Monfort" (1898), and "Peggy" (1899), by Laura E. Howe Richards. These are the first three volumes of her Three Margarets series. The entire series, including "Rita" (1900), "Fernley House" (1901), and "The Merryweathers" (1904), is available at Project Gutenberg
Surfing: Citation Needed. Funny stuff from Wikipedia, via Tumblr.
Listening: U2, The Records, Bob Marley...and a lot of sappy drivel, since it's Valentine's Day and the radio stations seem to think we desire that crap.
At Random:
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