While I was in Oregon, my mom's friend dropped off a book for her to read. If there is one thing I do on vacation besides exercise, yoga, eating, and drinking, it's read. So I began to read the book, called "Life After Life" by Kate Atkinson. It's hard to get into, mainly because there are a million jumps in time in the story. The basic premise is that this girl lives and dies, over and over. In one flash, she dies at birth. Then the next chapter begins with her overcoming a difficult birth, only to catch a cold and die a few weeks later. The chapter after that picks up a few months into her life. Does this make sense? As this girl grows, she dies. Over and over. Always with a second chance afterwards. The point of the story being that she eventually becomes aware she has lived and died, many, many times, and as such, she tries to change the future. It's an amazing book if you can stick with it.
Every time she dies, she later wakes up just after dying. In the same situation in which she died, its just the second time around, she always makes a different decision in the situation. For example, in one flash, she goes downstairs upon hearing her family's maid return from a protest late at night. It turns out the maid catches the Spanish flu at the protest, and gives the flu to the entire family, killing some members. Including the main character. After the main character's death, she then wakes up in her bed, hearing the maid coming home from the protest. Instead of going downstairs this time, she is filled with horrible dread, and pulls the covers over her head to hide. She does not go downstairs.
The whole book is a collection of decisions, and then immediately, shows what would happen if the main character had made a different decision. Isn't that a fascinating concept?
I read this about a month ago, so I've had ample time to ponder the ideas planted by the book. I've often thought my self-destructive path should have ended in death. Perhaps a few decisions made differently would have meant that. I believe my husband has been one of the best decisions I've made, and I believe without him, I probably would be dead. He's the only one who got me to pause in my path, leave the path, and attempt to find a new one.
There was a moment, almost 10 years ago, when he called me for the first time. I almost didn't answer the phone. I watched it ring at least 7 times before I answered it. I stared at that old school Nokia phone, playing Eminem's "Shake That". Because I was scared. I did answer the phone, right before it went to voicemail. But, what if I hadn't answered it?
I was dating someone else at the time my husband and I met. I was in one of my typical, atrociously chosen relationships. He was 13 years older than me, an alcoholic with 2 DUI's under his belt (along with a jail stint), a 16-year old daughter to my 23 years, and he was married. What the fuck was I thinking? At any rate, that relationship could have been the end of me. If I had chosen him, I know I would have kept drinking until one day I would inevitably drink too much. I had no business dating a married man. He told me he was separated, but looking back on the situation, we only met in hotels. Now that I'm no longer a child, I see this was likely a lie and he was having an affair on his wife. I was so naive at the time though, I believed him. Children have absolutely no understanding of the complexity of relationships, especially marriage. Fortunately I answered that phone call, started dating my husband, and eventually, chose my husband over the married man.
There was another moment, probably 9 years ago, right after my husband and I had started dating. As I mentioned before, I was 23 when I met my husband, fresh out of college. I was still living the club-kid lifestyle. While I was in college, I took a job at a bank and I stayed with it after I graduated. After I graduated from college, the bank wanted to put me through a banker program which I happily accepted. In banker school, I met a woman who was probably a little too much like myself. We were immediately drawn to each other, and before I knew it, we were drinking gallons of vodka every weekend. We were at a club one January, me, her, and my future husband. She told me she was going to go do coke in the bathroom, did I want any?
What a pivotal moment in my life. A fork in the road. The husband-to-be greatly influenced my decision and got me to say no, and for that, I believe I am alive. I have an addictive personality, and a dark passenger. If I had tried the coke, who knows where it may have stopped. My guess would be with a needle in my arm and a heart that no longer beats. One path led to life. One path was inevitably leading to death. How in the world did I choose the correct fork in the road?
Which all leads me to an incredibly frightening experience that happened 2 days ago.
I'd wanted to go walking. The hubby wanted to get a haircut. So, he dropped me off at my usual spot and he was going to come pick me up when he was done. I'd walked a quarter mile when a man in light blue SUV drove by me. It kind of gave me the creeps, so after about 30 seconds I turned around. The man was turning his SUV around where the road is big enough for cars to park, where the hubby dropped me off. I felt weird, but kept walking. He drove past me again, and drove about a quarter of a mile ahead and turned off the road. I watched him turn his car around, park, and just sit there. Soon, I walked past him, just hanging out in his car. I kept walking. The further I walked, the more panic gripped my insides. With every step, it felt like my innards were turning to jello. Then my legs started to shake. My mind was screaming, "CALL A! CALL A!"
I tried to tell myself I was being paranoid and to keep walking. But I couldn't. The place where I walk is an abandoned road that runs right next to the highway. I got to a place in the road that was highly visible to the highway and stopped. I turned around. The man had gotten out of his car and was walking behind me. He seemed to be in his 20's, maybe 30's. He had blondish-brown hair that was slightly longer than a buzz cut, wearing a blue t-shirt, black shorts, and blue compression socks. He had a creepy look, or at least my hyper-vigilance told me so. As soon as I turned around, so did he. He walked quickly back to his car, around a small bluff. I couldn't see him anymore.
I called A. as fast as I could.
"I'm having a panic attack. Can you come back and get me?" I said breathlessly. "Hurry!"
Hurry, he did. A. was about 9 miles away, but he turned the car around. I asked him to stay on the phone with me while I kept an eye out for the man. My whole body was shaking, my hands tightened reflexively around my water bottle, filled with ice and water. It would be heavy enough to swing at the man, and then I would jump the fence and get in the highway. Luckily, it never came to that. After a couple of minutes, his car pulled out in the other direction. He drove to end of the road, and turned left.
Just then, A. pulled on to the road and drove towards me. I jumped in the car and asked if he'd seen the man. Turns out the guy just turned left, pulled over, and parked. When we got to the end of the road, the man turned back on to the road and slowly began to drive back down. A. and I gave him the hard stare-down as he passed us, then we just looked at each other. Had he been trying to make me think he left so I would keep walking? We'll never know.
I stayed in the car, trying to calm myself while A. got his haircut.
Thoughts swirled. I felt extremely anxious, unsafe. My mind had already gone to this book, thinking about what had just happened to me. What was it that led me to feeling that awful, awful dread? What turned my legs to jello and panic to jettison throughout my body? Could I just be picking up "vibes" given off by this guy? Or could it be something more?
Chances are, this encounter was nothing.
But what if it was everything? What if this was a fork in the road and I had absolutely no idea? What if I had kept walking? What if he had come up behind me, attacked me, kidnapped me, or killed me?
I'm still feeling quite unsafe. But later that night, I sat and stared into my rescue dog's eyes. There could be a world where neither of us existed. What if I hadn't seen his picture on that rescue site, and emailed them? What if his foster mother hadn't seen and replied to my application? What if the shelter where his previous parents dropped him off had euthanized him?
And, what if I hadn't called A? What if I hadn't gotten myself out of that situation?
What if me and my rescue dog had never locked eyes? Never got to cuddle together watching "How I Met Your Mother" while the hubby works the night shift? Because, what if he wasn't there? What if I wasn't there? And so we sat there, staring at each other, one of us feeling love, the other feeling like there was a chance this moment might never have happened.
It's safe to say I won't be walking by myself down there. Ever again. This incident has been haunting.
Showing posts with label vacation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vacation. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 18, 2015
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
Home From Vacation: Part II
Well. I certainly didn't plan to be gone for a month. It just happened. Expect this to be a rambling post, and I'm not sure whether it will long or short yet.
I think I mentioned in an earlier post that I run a food blog. About 2 months ago, I decided to take a break and I pretty much made the commitment that I would return after the Oregon vacation. I was just getting back into the swing of things. By the swing of things, I mean that I normally post 3-4 times a week. I'd think I'd posted about a week's worth of work when disaster struck. I was putting the final touches on a post, when I dropped my cup of coffee on the computer. How does one do that? I cursed and ran around the house, but eventually I thought I had it cleaned and dried. The computer worked fine until about 3pm that afternoon when it suddenly died and would not turn back on. It still hasn't ever turned back on.
A. and I ended up driving about 2 hours to get to the nearest Mac store, just to find out that they only stock Mac Book Air's, not regular laptops. We basically drove 2 hours just to order a laptop and be assured it would arrive in 7-10 business days. For the love. So, I was without a computer for almost 2 weeks.
I felt gagged. Binded. No way to release my creativity. No way to write in my journal. I ended up going to bed at 8 pm and dragging my butt from bed at 8 am those days. That's a lot of sleeping time, even for me. I tried to keep up exercise, but I felt lack-luster. Luckily, I kept creating recipes and taking lots of pictures.
The computer finally arrived, and not a moment too soon. I'd begun to receive harassing phone calls from friends and family members wondering why the heck there were no food posts. I was feeling the pressure. A. got the new laptop up and running and handed it over to me to get caught up. I plugged my trusty camera into the new computer and prepared to import the photos.
There were 400. Combine that with 300 from the old computer that I hadn't edited yet. That's a freakin' ton of photos to have on deck to edit. I normally edit shoot-to-shoot to avoid getting overwhelmed, and needless to say this group of 700 photos consisted of about 7 shoots.
I felt buried.
I ended up tackling the photos the same way I do everything. One photo at a time. It took me an entire evening, but I made my way through them. The food blog is caught up, photos are caught up, now what?
I have been feeling a lot better since vacation. I think I've adjusted back to real time. I sometimes wonder how much of an effect our diets have on our mental health and for how long. I ate tons of food in Oregon that I never eat anymore. Stuff that is processed and made with lots of chemicals and preservatives. I'd been feeling immensely better since cleaning up my diet and then boom. 2 weeks of eating dirty and I'm right back where I used to be. Slow. Listless. Hopeless. Angry. Distracted. The opposite of mindful.
Is there a connection? I suspect so, but I'm no scientist. I'm back on my normal "diet". I don't diet (as in watch what I eat for calories) so when I say diet, I just mean what I eat normally every day. I follow an IF (intermittent fasting) lifestyle, which I believe also contributes to my clear head. Most days I don't eat until after 1 pm, usually later. I have coffee in the morning, and I drink water throughout the day, but I don't eat much the first half of the day. IF is not for everyone, but it's something I've accepted after I realized I was following it without knowing it almost my entire life. There are numerous articles out there extolling the benefits of fasting, I can vouch that I feel a lot of them. No, I'm not hungry all day. No, I don't think about food 24 hours a day. Like I said, my body has pretty much been doing this my entire life anyway, I just recognize it now. When I do get to eating, I try to eat mostly clean. One of my favorite afternoon snacks to break the fast is homemade guacamole made with avocados, red onion, cilantro, lime, and a little kosher salt. So good, and mostly clean. Dinner is usually vegetarian, chicken, or fish with LOTS of vegetables. I snack a lot after dinner, eating a ton of fruit. Usually a bowl of peaches, raspberries, strawberries, grapes, kiwis, or watermelon. I usually have a bowl of air-popped popcorn. I always end the night with a cup of chamomile tea and a piece of dark chocolate. I think eating this way clears a majority of the cobwebs that seem to gather in my head.
I'm still up about 2 lbs from Oregon, but I think that will come off eventually. I've trying to get back to my routine of exercising daily, but sometimes it seems that something always comes up. I'm doing my best though, in fact, I ran a straight mile yesterday for the first time in months.
I bitched a lot about my garden in the last post, and most of that stuff remains true. Unfortunately. I'm not going to have a cucumber, zucchini, or pumpkin crop this year. Thanks to Jiffy pots. A word of advice? Those little pots DO NOT decompose, run far FAR away if you see these in the store. I may have some tomatoes, but that remains to be seen. I'm trying to keep the potatoes from death. The plants and leaves all turned yellow with black spots, and just when I was about to throw in the towel and dig everything up, the potatoes began growing new growth. I'm treating them everyday with baking soda fungicide and DE, so we'll see. I began a new pot of cilantro, which is growing fabulously. Other than that, my herbs are growing great. Peppers? Perfection! I'm trying not to be too hard on myself for my garden failures, after all it's only my 2nd year doing it and I've learned a ton. But no Jiffy pots next year. Never again!
The puppy? Almost potty-trained. We eventually had to block off most of the house and only give the little guy the living room to explore. This has led to him always going to the door to be let out.
Reading over this post, I'm reminded of how utterly useless my anxiety is. I worried, and worried, and then worried some more about that Oregon trip. Everything I thought would go wrong at home almost did. But what did that worry help? Everything happened anyway. And everything eventually got cleaned up and put back to normal. Why do I sit and stress about what's going to happen and cleaning it up? Again, what purpose does that serve? I could sit here and examine my anxiety from every angle, and I would still think it was useless. And yet, I would still feel it. I would still have it.
What a rambling post indeed. As I was writing this post, I remembered one other Oregon issue I wanted to talk about. And I don't have the energy to do it now. So, one more vacation wrap-up post and then I'm going to move on those intriguing flowing ideas I get when I'm running or doing yoga :)
I think I mentioned in an earlier post that I run a food blog. About 2 months ago, I decided to take a break and I pretty much made the commitment that I would return after the Oregon vacation. I was just getting back into the swing of things. By the swing of things, I mean that I normally post 3-4 times a week. I'd think I'd posted about a week's worth of work when disaster struck. I was putting the final touches on a post, when I dropped my cup of coffee on the computer. How does one do that? I cursed and ran around the house, but eventually I thought I had it cleaned and dried. The computer worked fine until about 3pm that afternoon when it suddenly died and would not turn back on. It still hasn't ever turned back on.
A. and I ended up driving about 2 hours to get to the nearest Mac store, just to find out that they only stock Mac Book Air's, not regular laptops. We basically drove 2 hours just to order a laptop and be assured it would arrive in 7-10 business days. For the love. So, I was without a computer for almost 2 weeks.
I felt gagged. Binded. No way to release my creativity. No way to write in my journal. I ended up going to bed at 8 pm and dragging my butt from bed at 8 am those days. That's a lot of sleeping time, even for me. I tried to keep up exercise, but I felt lack-luster. Luckily, I kept creating recipes and taking lots of pictures.
The computer finally arrived, and not a moment too soon. I'd begun to receive harassing phone calls from friends and family members wondering why the heck there were no food posts. I was feeling the pressure. A. got the new laptop up and running and handed it over to me to get caught up. I plugged my trusty camera into the new computer and prepared to import the photos.
There were 400. Combine that with 300 from the old computer that I hadn't edited yet. That's a freakin' ton of photos to have on deck to edit. I normally edit shoot-to-shoot to avoid getting overwhelmed, and needless to say this group of 700 photos consisted of about 7 shoots.
I felt buried.
I ended up tackling the photos the same way I do everything. One photo at a time. It took me an entire evening, but I made my way through them. The food blog is caught up, photos are caught up, now what?
I have been feeling a lot better since vacation. I think I've adjusted back to real time. I sometimes wonder how much of an effect our diets have on our mental health and for how long. I ate tons of food in Oregon that I never eat anymore. Stuff that is processed and made with lots of chemicals and preservatives. I'd been feeling immensely better since cleaning up my diet and then boom. 2 weeks of eating dirty and I'm right back where I used to be. Slow. Listless. Hopeless. Angry. Distracted. The opposite of mindful.
Is there a connection? I suspect so, but I'm no scientist. I'm back on my normal "diet". I don't diet (as in watch what I eat for calories) so when I say diet, I just mean what I eat normally every day. I follow an IF (intermittent fasting) lifestyle, which I believe also contributes to my clear head. Most days I don't eat until after 1 pm, usually later. I have coffee in the morning, and I drink water throughout the day, but I don't eat much the first half of the day. IF is not for everyone, but it's something I've accepted after I realized I was following it without knowing it almost my entire life. There are numerous articles out there extolling the benefits of fasting, I can vouch that I feel a lot of them. No, I'm not hungry all day. No, I don't think about food 24 hours a day. Like I said, my body has pretty much been doing this my entire life anyway, I just recognize it now. When I do get to eating, I try to eat mostly clean. One of my favorite afternoon snacks to break the fast is homemade guacamole made with avocados, red onion, cilantro, lime, and a little kosher salt. So good, and mostly clean. Dinner is usually vegetarian, chicken, or fish with LOTS of vegetables. I snack a lot after dinner, eating a ton of fruit. Usually a bowl of peaches, raspberries, strawberries, grapes, kiwis, or watermelon. I usually have a bowl of air-popped popcorn. I always end the night with a cup of chamomile tea and a piece of dark chocolate. I think eating this way clears a majority of the cobwebs that seem to gather in my head.
I'm still up about 2 lbs from Oregon, but I think that will come off eventually. I've trying to get back to my routine of exercising daily, but sometimes it seems that something always comes up. I'm doing my best though, in fact, I ran a straight mile yesterday for the first time in months.
I bitched a lot about my garden in the last post, and most of that stuff remains true. Unfortunately. I'm not going to have a cucumber, zucchini, or pumpkin crop this year. Thanks to Jiffy pots. A word of advice? Those little pots DO NOT decompose, run far FAR away if you see these in the store. I may have some tomatoes, but that remains to be seen. I'm trying to keep the potatoes from death. The plants and leaves all turned yellow with black spots, and just when I was about to throw in the towel and dig everything up, the potatoes began growing new growth. I'm treating them everyday with baking soda fungicide and DE, so we'll see. I began a new pot of cilantro, which is growing fabulously. Other than that, my herbs are growing great. Peppers? Perfection! I'm trying not to be too hard on myself for my garden failures, after all it's only my 2nd year doing it and I've learned a ton. But no Jiffy pots next year. Never again!
The puppy? Almost potty-trained. We eventually had to block off most of the house and only give the little guy the living room to explore. This has led to him always going to the door to be let out.
Reading over this post, I'm reminded of how utterly useless my anxiety is. I worried, and worried, and then worried some more about that Oregon trip. Everything I thought would go wrong at home almost did. But what did that worry help? Everything happened anyway. And everything eventually got cleaned up and put back to normal. Why do I sit and stress about what's going to happen and cleaning it up? Again, what purpose does that serve? I could sit here and examine my anxiety from every angle, and I would still think it was useless. And yet, I would still feel it. I would still have it.
What a rambling post indeed. As I was writing this post, I remembered one other Oregon issue I wanted to talk about. And I don't have the energy to do it now. So, one more vacation wrap-up post and then I'm going to move on those intriguing flowing ideas I get when I'm running or doing yoga :)
Friday, June 26, 2015
Home From Vacation: Part I
I haven't written in awhile. I just got home yesterday from my annual trip to visit my parents. Gone for 2 weeks, but it might as well have been a month. I'm feeling super foggy and disorientated. It's crazy how far from your routine you can get in 2 weeks. It's going to take some time to feel back to normal, to get my body off vacation time. During vacation, everything feels like excess. Too much food, too much drink, too much smoking, too much socializing, too much shopping... It's a time of the year I enjoy the American lifestyle, just as everyone else in this country does. My problem with this is there's not a lot of time for self-reflection. How can you when you are running around all day, constantly sending your brain little jolts of pleasure from alcohol, from food, from shopping all day long... Constantly talking. And talking. And talking. All those words mean very little when you haven't found peace with yourself.
So today, I start trudging back to a clearer mind. Working hard outside, yoga and meditation, regular exercise, and regular fasting. Eating lots of vegetables, not so much meat (we must have ate 3 truckloads of red meat on our vacation), and water more than anything. I think I gained 5-8 lbs on the trip, which is probably also fogging up my brain.
Ugh. I'll feel better in a week or so.
In the meantime, I'd thought I'd talk about my trip. To start with, I have never not wanted to go on a trip as much as this one. I dreaded it for days. I got anxious about it at least a week beforehand. I was nervous about leaving the puppy, and it was such a bad time of year to leave the garden. I knew my husband's aunt and uncle wouldn't feed my birds or change my hummingbird feeder. But the tickets were bought in January, circumstances be damned.
What did I find when I got home yesterday?
The puppy seems to have forgotten all of his potty training. He's going everywhere in the house. He peed in the bed last night, and he's never done that. I spent an hour last night with a roll of paper towels and the carpet cleaner, just roving from room to room cleaning up urine stains. The cilantro bolted in the garden. Something is seriously eating the potato plants. My cucumber plants turned yellow. My bird bath hasn't been scrubbed in two weeks. Something dug up and ate my lavender starts. The bird feeders were all empty, and even though I've filled them, no one has returned. The house is filthy. Laundry is flowing out of the hamper onto the floor.
I. am. frustrated.
Almost everything I thought would happen during vacation, did. Minus one of the dogs getting lost, and I might have actually killed my husband's family if that had happened.
So, I was dreading the trip. But I went. The anxiety seemed to lessen as soon as the hubby and I left for the airport. It's almost like my body knew that there was nothing I could do now. Travel went smoothly and we arrived in Oregon at 10 in the morning. The initial meeting with my brother and dad was a blur, as was lunch soon after. In fact the rest of the day is kind of blurry from jet lag, my husband and I ended up in bed very early.
The trip had begun.
I didn't notice right away, but I did notice soon after arriving how different my brother was acting. He'd last come out to visit us in the South last August, and that trip was pretty jovial and relaxing. Now, my brother seemed angry. And bitter. And lashed out at everyone. He said some hurtful things to me, and about issues that are extremely important to me. One of his comments has been burned in my head, probably forever. My brother is a high school teacher, and basketball coach, and near the end of the school year, one of his players committed suicide. My brother was telling my husband that because he is a teacher, he had to be sympathetic and compassionate to the students and parents. He said he had to "say the right thing". But deep down, he didn't feel sympathy. He said he thought that student was selfish and was trying to become a martyr. He said the kid was trying to make sure that everyone focused on him and talked about him at graduation. He then said he thought that kid was a "piece of shit".
I was floored. Shocked. Rocked.
How could anyone say that? I walked away at this time, but I thought a lot about what he said. Such a lack of empathy, especially for someone I thought was exactly like me. I thought my brother put on a big show of being an asshole and pretending not to have feelings, but maybe it's not a show. Maybe he really doesn't care. Maybe he really doesn't have compassion, and empathy for others. His student drove his car off a cliff. When that didn't kill him, he kicked the windshield out of the car, climbed the cliff, and proceeded to find a tree and hang himself. That is pure desperation there. Pure and simple. Human brains have evolved over millions of years to have systems that protect us from suicide. One of the brain's main functions is to keep us alive. People have to be sick, very sick, in order to override those systems. I know what it's like to look out at the world from eyes that see nothing but pain, destruction, unhappiness, inequality, and despair. I know what it's like to feel like you can't stand a single second more. It's terrifying to have those thoughts. These thoughts almost feel physical at times, like an anchor tied to your ankle in the ocean. When you are at the bottom, it literally feels like you're drowning. How can my brother not see how desperate that poor kid was? That he was sick, and he saw no other alternative than to do what he did?
I feel like I don't know who my brother is anymore. It almost felt like I was punched in the stomach when I realized that my brother is fake.
He says the right things. He pretends to care. He smiles and pats the kids on the back, but who knows what he's thinking inside. He says the right things to me. Is this for real? I found myself, for most of the trip, second-guessing everything he said. Did he mean what he just said, or was that sarcasm? This, of course, let to lots of retrospection on my brother's failed marriage, which ended 1 year ago. My brother got engaged after dating this girl for about 9 months. They were married within 6 months of that. She left about 16 months into the marriage, and they are now divorced. My mom and my brother talk mad shit about this girl. They say horrible, awful things like she was manipulative, a liar, and a bitch. They appall me.
I don't agree with the way my former sister-in-law went about things, but I'll just say this, she is in no way the things that my family says about her. She was a good person, with a good heart. They just did not make a good match. For one, she was very religious and my whole family is squarely in the Agnostic/Athiest camp. This, for me, was the biggest red flag. The second biggest problem was that she doesn't smoke or approve of smoking, and my brother is a stoner. A huge stoner. I think these 2 factors alone are enough for anyone to say that this might not be a forever-match here.
My former sister-in-law said it was ok that my brother was Agnostic. I think that was a lie.
My former sister-in-law said it was ok that my brother smoked weed. Occasionally. I think that was a lie.
But let's be honest, this girl was 22 when they got married. At 22, I still told guys what they wanted to hear in order to have a relationship. You always think you can change someone if they love you enough. I thought this way. I think most young girls do. Does this make them a bad person? Fuck no. It makes them youthful, optimistic, and immature, but that's what the majority of people are at 22. It's a sign of youth, not of being manipulative. And in defense of my former sister-in-law, I'm pretty sure my brother put on his good-guy act until they got married. I guarantee that this girl started to see the real person behind my brother's persona, and she probably realized she didn't even know this person. Put that together with their major lifestyle differences and of course someone is going to pull the plug on this marriage.
I forgive my former sister-in-law. I understand that these 2 people were fundamentally different. Our time on Earth is so incredibly short, we can't waste a second being unhappy. In the long run, I think my brother will be better off. He'll find someone (hopefully) that's also agnostic, and perhaps a little bit of a liberal, pot-smoking hippy. And it will work so much better. So why harbor so much animosity?
If you want to get down to brass-tax, I think my brother is in the "Anger" phase of his grieving. It must have been that he was so busy during the school year that he didn't process any of his emotions, and he's just now having time to think about it. All I can say is, I hope this phase passes. I also hope comments he made were made out of anger, and not out of him revealing his true self.
I've got lots more talking about the trip to do, but unfortunately, I also have quite a long to-do list. Till next time!
So today, I start trudging back to a clearer mind. Working hard outside, yoga and meditation, regular exercise, and regular fasting. Eating lots of vegetables, not so much meat (we must have ate 3 truckloads of red meat on our vacation), and water more than anything. I think I gained 5-8 lbs on the trip, which is probably also fogging up my brain.
Ugh. I'll feel better in a week or so.
In the meantime, I'd thought I'd talk about my trip. To start with, I have never not wanted to go on a trip as much as this one. I dreaded it for days. I got anxious about it at least a week beforehand. I was nervous about leaving the puppy, and it was such a bad time of year to leave the garden. I knew my husband's aunt and uncle wouldn't feed my birds or change my hummingbird feeder. But the tickets were bought in January, circumstances be damned.
What did I find when I got home yesterday?
The puppy seems to have forgotten all of his potty training. He's going everywhere in the house. He peed in the bed last night, and he's never done that. I spent an hour last night with a roll of paper towels and the carpet cleaner, just roving from room to room cleaning up urine stains. The cilantro bolted in the garden. Something is seriously eating the potato plants. My cucumber plants turned yellow. My bird bath hasn't been scrubbed in two weeks. Something dug up and ate my lavender starts. The bird feeders were all empty, and even though I've filled them, no one has returned. The house is filthy. Laundry is flowing out of the hamper onto the floor.
I. am. frustrated.
Almost everything I thought would happen during vacation, did. Minus one of the dogs getting lost, and I might have actually killed my husband's family if that had happened.
So, I was dreading the trip. But I went. The anxiety seemed to lessen as soon as the hubby and I left for the airport. It's almost like my body knew that there was nothing I could do now. Travel went smoothly and we arrived in Oregon at 10 in the morning. The initial meeting with my brother and dad was a blur, as was lunch soon after. In fact the rest of the day is kind of blurry from jet lag, my husband and I ended up in bed very early.
The trip had begun.
I didn't notice right away, but I did notice soon after arriving how different my brother was acting. He'd last come out to visit us in the South last August, and that trip was pretty jovial and relaxing. Now, my brother seemed angry. And bitter. And lashed out at everyone. He said some hurtful things to me, and about issues that are extremely important to me. One of his comments has been burned in my head, probably forever. My brother is a high school teacher, and basketball coach, and near the end of the school year, one of his players committed suicide. My brother was telling my husband that because he is a teacher, he had to be sympathetic and compassionate to the students and parents. He said he had to "say the right thing". But deep down, he didn't feel sympathy. He said he thought that student was selfish and was trying to become a martyr. He said the kid was trying to make sure that everyone focused on him and talked about him at graduation. He then said he thought that kid was a "piece of shit".
I was floored. Shocked. Rocked.
How could anyone say that? I walked away at this time, but I thought a lot about what he said. Such a lack of empathy, especially for someone I thought was exactly like me. I thought my brother put on a big show of being an asshole and pretending not to have feelings, but maybe it's not a show. Maybe he really doesn't care. Maybe he really doesn't have compassion, and empathy for others. His student drove his car off a cliff. When that didn't kill him, he kicked the windshield out of the car, climbed the cliff, and proceeded to find a tree and hang himself. That is pure desperation there. Pure and simple. Human brains have evolved over millions of years to have systems that protect us from suicide. One of the brain's main functions is to keep us alive. People have to be sick, very sick, in order to override those systems. I know what it's like to look out at the world from eyes that see nothing but pain, destruction, unhappiness, inequality, and despair. I know what it's like to feel like you can't stand a single second more. It's terrifying to have those thoughts. These thoughts almost feel physical at times, like an anchor tied to your ankle in the ocean. When you are at the bottom, it literally feels like you're drowning. How can my brother not see how desperate that poor kid was? That he was sick, and he saw no other alternative than to do what he did?
I feel like I don't know who my brother is anymore. It almost felt like I was punched in the stomach when I realized that my brother is fake.
He says the right things. He pretends to care. He smiles and pats the kids on the back, but who knows what he's thinking inside. He says the right things to me. Is this for real? I found myself, for most of the trip, second-guessing everything he said. Did he mean what he just said, or was that sarcasm? This, of course, let to lots of retrospection on my brother's failed marriage, which ended 1 year ago. My brother got engaged after dating this girl for about 9 months. They were married within 6 months of that. She left about 16 months into the marriage, and they are now divorced. My mom and my brother talk mad shit about this girl. They say horrible, awful things like she was manipulative, a liar, and a bitch. They appall me.
I don't agree with the way my former sister-in-law went about things, but I'll just say this, she is in no way the things that my family says about her. She was a good person, with a good heart. They just did not make a good match. For one, she was very religious and my whole family is squarely in the Agnostic/Athiest camp. This, for me, was the biggest red flag. The second biggest problem was that she doesn't smoke or approve of smoking, and my brother is a stoner. A huge stoner. I think these 2 factors alone are enough for anyone to say that this might not be a forever-match here.
My former sister-in-law said it was ok that my brother was Agnostic. I think that was a lie.
My former sister-in-law said it was ok that my brother smoked weed. Occasionally. I think that was a lie.
But let's be honest, this girl was 22 when they got married. At 22, I still told guys what they wanted to hear in order to have a relationship. You always think you can change someone if they love you enough. I thought this way. I think most young girls do. Does this make them a bad person? Fuck no. It makes them youthful, optimistic, and immature, but that's what the majority of people are at 22. It's a sign of youth, not of being manipulative. And in defense of my former sister-in-law, I'm pretty sure my brother put on his good-guy act until they got married. I guarantee that this girl started to see the real person behind my brother's persona, and she probably realized she didn't even know this person. Put that together with their major lifestyle differences and of course someone is going to pull the plug on this marriage.
I forgive my former sister-in-law. I understand that these 2 people were fundamentally different. Our time on Earth is so incredibly short, we can't waste a second being unhappy. In the long run, I think my brother will be better off. He'll find someone (hopefully) that's also agnostic, and perhaps a little bit of a liberal, pot-smoking hippy. And it will work so much better. So why harbor so much animosity?
If you want to get down to brass-tax, I think my brother is in the "Anger" phase of his grieving. It must have been that he was so busy during the school year that he didn't process any of his emotions, and he's just now having time to think about it. All I can say is, I hope this phase passes. I also hope comments he made were made out of anger, and not out of him revealing his true self.
I've got lots more talking about the trip to do, but unfortunately, I also have quite a long to-do list. Till next time!
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