Written Sunday December 20, 2015
Star Wars movies are blasting from the family room. It’s in preparation for watching the new Star Wars movie. What’s it called? The Empire Wakes Up Again? I don’t know and I don’t really care. I’m not invited to the party which is just fine with me. I do think it’s important for Heath to take his boys to watch it. Gwen and I can have a girls morning.
I could go into my room to watch whatever I find relaxing after a long Sunday. I thought I would try blogging instead. Unfortunately I only have partial ideas. Somewhere in the middle I get bored. Emotional constipation takes care of the rest. It’s draining trying to live up to others’ ideals. Especially when I have always used this blog as my outlet.
So much life has happened in the last two years and I am so mentally exhausted. Heath and I have talked about it. I feel like people take advantage of my sense of responsibility. It also feels like people think of me as some sort of superhero. It’s flattering to be treated as if life changing experiences that would bring anyone else to their knees, are no big deal for me. The flattery wears off quickly though. And my pant legs have holes in the knees.
I’m not flattered.
If I can’t catch a break dealing with three deaths in one year, I’m waving my white flag now. So my house was burglarized. Big deal, right? I didn’t lose much but the sense of loss is still there. I need a minute to catch my breath.
For the first time ever I finally learned what it feels like to not care. I don’t care anymore. One of Gavin’s teachers got a little snippy with me via email when it slipped my mind to send in some form for a field trip. I got snippy right back. I told her what happened on Monday and basically said that some things have slid down the totem pole of importance. She was very sympathetic.
Last week felt liberating. Things I normally lose sleep over no longer were a priority in my mind. I don’t care. I don’t intend to be flaky but if I am so what? Monday’s experience hasn’t gotten the best of me. I have my moments when I worry where I didn’t before but the newly installed security system has calmed those thoughts.
I don’t feel like I really had permission to mourn my dad’s death. He would have been 62 today. People seem to be able to relate more to my most recent life changing event. It didn’t destroy me. I’m not riddled with fear. But I am using it as an excuse to say, “Stop the world, I’d like to get off.” I’m sick of being treated like a superhero. It’s too much pressure.
Funny thing is, it feels like so many people think I should be upset about being robbed. I am but largely I’m not. It is a great excuse to whip out the checklist if someone wants to add insult to injury.
“I know you have a no soliciting sign but …”
” I know you lost all your cameras but …”
No. I’m done.