You can never go home again....
I think I came here out of a sense of obligation.
3 years is a long time, and so much has happened since then. Hell, no one even reads this but me and I don't want to recant the details even to myself. It's just too dark. It's too sad. It's just downright depressing.
Maybe I had hopes that I had changed, that they had changed.
They haven't...
But I have, and we don't know each other anymore. They are creatures of habit. Unwavering, old, mean, shortsighted, and nasty habits. I think I've written before on this old blog that going home is like going into a dark time machine. It makes me sad to see it. Old attitudes and prejudices have been welded into place like sharp, twisted girders. Unmovable, unchanging, corroding steel beams of judgement and malice.
Other than baby pictures in never used rooms, no other images of me exist on any wall in the house. The old picture of me that stayed on the refrigerator for 20 years has disappeared. I'm sure I'll find it when everything is split up after death. That is unless it was thrown away, or will be thrown away when a drawer is cleaned out.
I feel like a ghost.
I've changed as well. I just don't have any joy in my life, and haven't had any in a very long time. The 2 shoulder surgeries have made me into an extremely grim person. I'm in pain every single day. Happiness is something for "other people", not me. But in all honesty, it was never a big part in my life. But, the last 4 years have been a living Hell of emotional, physical, and financial pain.
The job I'm forced to work is nothing but abject, redundant toil. It pays absolute SHIT wages, and I am surrounded by corporate ass kisses. I absolutely hate it. And when I say hate, I mean it in the truest sense of the word. It is an act of sheer will to even go into the office.
Yeah, "Woe is me". And not one single soul gives a flying fuck. No one at all. According to my mother. "Well, you haven't made the best choices in your life"
If it didn't piss me off so badly, It would make me laugh out loud because of the sheer audacity of her saying it. Mrs. Never worked a job since 1957 herself. Absolutely clueless about what it's like to work in any industry, worry about money, or struggle with day to day life. How dare she...
Just being here makes my heart hurt. No, I certainly wasn't expecting to be treated like the Prodigal son returning. But a little sympathy and commiseration would have been welcome. Yeah, some of that would have been appreciated to be sure. Rather than retorts for everything I say, looks of disdain each time I open up a diet coke for Christ's sake. I guess I upset the status quo just breathing, or at least that's how it feels.
3 years is a long time, and so much has happened since then. Hell, no one even reads this but me and I don't want to recant the details even to myself. It's just too dark. It's too sad. It's just downright depressing.
Maybe I had hopes that I had changed, that they had changed.
They haven't...
But I have, and we don't know each other anymore. They are creatures of habit. Unwavering, old, mean, shortsighted, and nasty habits. I think I've written before on this old blog that going home is like going into a dark time machine. It makes me sad to see it. Old attitudes and prejudices have been welded into place like sharp, twisted girders. Unmovable, unchanging, corroding steel beams of judgement and malice.
Other than baby pictures in never used rooms, no other images of me exist on any wall in the house. The old picture of me that stayed on the refrigerator for 20 years has disappeared. I'm sure I'll find it when everything is split up after death. That is unless it was thrown away, or will be thrown away when a drawer is cleaned out.
I feel like a ghost.
I've changed as well. I just don't have any joy in my life, and haven't had any in a very long time. The 2 shoulder surgeries have made me into an extremely grim person. I'm in pain every single day. Happiness is something for "other people", not me. But in all honesty, it was never a big part in my life. But, the last 4 years have been a living Hell of emotional, physical, and financial pain.
The job I'm forced to work is nothing but abject, redundant toil. It pays absolute SHIT wages, and I am surrounded by corporate ass kisses. I absolutely hate it. And when I say hate, I mean it in the truest sense of the word. It is an act of sheer will to even go into the office.
Yeah, "Woe is me". And not one single soul gives a flying fuck. No one at all. According to my mother. "Well, you haven't made the best choices in your life"
If it didn't piss me off so badly, It would make me laugh out loud because of the sheer audacity of her saying it. Mrs. Never worked a job since 1957 herself. Absolutely clueless about what it's like to work in any industry, worry about money, or struggle with day to day life. How dare she...
Just being here makes my heart hurt. No, I certainly wasn't expecting to be treated like the Prodigal son returning. But a little sympathy and commiseration would have been welcome. Yeah, some of that would have been appreciated to be sure. Rather than retorts for everything I say, looks of disdain each time I open up a diet coke for Christ's sake. I guess I upset the status quo just breathing, or at least that's how it feels.
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