Dear God,
You have not given me a husband nor children. Nor have you given me a job or the ability to earn a livelihood. And now I am suffering with poor health and chronic fatigue. I feel bad about taking money from my mom. I am a drain on her finances. Please just give me one final mercy and take me home.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Furry Friends
My doggies are sooo cute! Sooo adorable. They never give me the cold shoulder. They are always happy to see me. They love me and admire and adore me. Sometimes it seems much easier to love a dog than to love a person.
Lunch with Mom
I'm feeling somewhat better today. Had lunch Mom, and it seemed to cheer me up. Yesterday's party, where I got offended by my niece and left in a huff, was a birthday for my mom. She turned 75 this month. Mom thinks Sage didn't do anything wrong, and I should just let it go. She said she cried after I left the party. I told her that she's the only one who cared whether I was there; for everyone else, it was, like, good riddance, when I left. Then Mom changed the subject.
Monday, May 24, 2010
My niece had a hissy fit
What a pathetic life I have lived. A life of being misunderstood and shunned, ridiculed and rejected. A life of failure and disappointment.
The latest episode of rejection happened yesterday with my niece. She is 18. I am 50. We were asked to pose together in a family photo, and she ended up standing next to me. The photographer asked her to move closer to me, and she seemed not to hear him. So I touched her sleeve to nudge her toward me. She recoiled, and she seemed creeped out. She said, "Please don't touch me." Later, she was acting annoyed with me, so I asked what I had done to offend her, and she said: "You grabbed me." Obviously, she was exaggerating and responding way out of proportion to what happened. But I apologized and asked her to forgive me. And she responded by saying she didn't want to talk with me. I objected that I had only touched her sleeve to nudge her into place for the picture. She told me to shut up. So I left the family party in a huff. My brother Ralph asked what was wrong, and I told him: "Sage is having a hissy fit and refuses to speak to me and told me to shut up."
This is all just so humiliating, so hurtful, so devastating. If this were a freak event, I guess it would be no big deal. But there's a lot of history behind this little incident. Sage's father (my brother Dan) and grandfather (my dad) shunned me for years because of petty grudges. I was not allowed to be part of Sage's life as she grew up. I was not allowed to touch her or hold her when she was a baby. By the time my brother had his third child, he finally gave up his grudge and I was allowed to hug the kids. But Jonathan, the youngest, is the only one interested in hugging me. My dad didn't give up his grudge until a few months ago when he was diagnosed with cancer and underwent surgery for it. So things were starting to go better with my family, and now this. It's like a relay race, and now it's Sage's turn to run with the baton.
I can't stand it. I just want to hide. I hate being me. I want to crawl out of my skin. I am embarrassed to show my face anywhere. I wish I could just stay home and never leave the house.
I am just so tired of my life. Is there no escape? Suicide is not an option. So I pray: "God, please take me home I've had enough."
Pamela, who rents my guest suite, heard me crying this morning and called to try to comfort me. I thanked her, but I didn't feel comfortable confiding in my tenant. Pamela suggested perhaps there were things I could do to change my life. But no, every time I think things are getting better, something like this happens to show me I am powerless to change my situation. But the Bible says that when the end comes, "In an instant we will all be changed." So I just wait out my tortured existence, doing my time.
On the upside, after I got home last night, two friends called. Yes, I guess there are some people who like me and care about me. I told them what happened, and how hurt I feel. But I don't think they get it. Nobody really understands. Being misunderstood, that's another theme in my life.
The latest episode of rejection happened yesterday with my niece. She is 18. I am 50. We were asked to pose together in a family photo, and she ended up standing next to me. The photographer asked her to move closer to me, and she seemed not to hear him. So I touched her sleeve to nudge her toward me. She recoiled, and she seemed creeped out. She said, "Please don't touch me." Later, she was acting annoyed with me, so I asked what I had done to offend her, and she said: "You grabbed me." Obviously, she was exaggerating and responding way out of proportion to what happened. But I apologized and asked her to forgive me. And she responded by saying she didn't want to talk with me. I objected that I had only touched her sleeve to nudge her into place for the picture. She told me to shut up. So I left the family party in a huff. My brother Ralph asked what was wrong, and I told him: "Sage is having a hissy fit and refuses to speak to me and told me to shut up."
This is all just so humiliating, so hurtful, so devastating. If this were a freak event, I guess it would be no big deal. But there's a lot of history behind this little incident. Sage's father (my brother Dan) and grandfather (my dad) shunned me for years because of petty grudges. I was not allowed to be part of Sage's life as she grew up. I was not allowed to touch her or hold her when she was a baby. By the time my brother had his third child, he finally gave up his grudge and I was allowed to hug the kids. But Jonathan, the youngest, is the only one interested in hugging me. My dad didn't give up his grudge until a few months ago when he was diagnosed with cancer and underwent surgery for it. So things were starting to go better with my family, and now this. It's like a relay race, and now it's Sage's turn to run with the baton.
I can't stand it. I just want to hide. I hate being me. I want to crawl out of my skin. I am embarrassed to show my face anywhere. I wish I could just stay home and never leave the house.
I am just so tired of my life. Is there no escape? Suicide is not an option. So I pray: "God, please take me home I've had enough."
Pamela, who rents my guest suite, heard me crying this morning and called to try to comfort me. I thanked her, but I didn't feel comfortable confiding in my tenant. Pamela suggested perhaps there were things I could do to change my life. But no, every time I think things are getting better, something like this happens to show me I am powerless to change my situation. But the Bible says that when the end comes, "In an instant we will all be changed." So I just wait out my tortured existence, doing my time.
On the upside, after I got home last night, two friends called. Yes, I guess there are some people who like me and care about me. I told them what happened, and how hurt I feel. But I don't think they get it. Nobody really understands. Being misunderstood, that's another theme in my life.
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