Monday's deep thoughts
Just finished listening to a popular writer's murder mystery. I'm disappointed. Of course the "bad guy" - "girl" in this case was killed in the end. Besides the fact that she was a serial killer - I actually liked her, and was hoping she'd come out on top in the end. I found myself angrier at the ancillary characters - the nosy-bodies, the FBI who broke the law getting information illegally. It just didn't seem fair, in the end. "Justice" prevailed, but "fairness" did not. I go for "fair" over "just" any day. "The ends justifies the means" and all that. Like losing our freedoms and perceived anonymity to the war on terror. There is no such thing as "fair". Yeah, nobody ever said that life was "fair".
***
Mom now wants me to have a kid (which she'd be happy to help take care of!). I reminded her that:
a. I'm 41 years old, and single.
b. If I had a kid tomorrow, when it's 15, I'll be almost 60!
She told me that I could adopt. I reminded her that:
a. I have a crappy no-where job, and can't afford a kid
b. In addition to the above, I'm single.
I SUPPOSE I could find a guy with kids to satisfy her request - but would it be the same? Probably not - she's more interested in BABIES than she is in kids, so unless the kids were under a year old, she wouldn't really be interested.
It's a moot point, of course, because at this point having a kid is outside the realm of possibility as far as I'm concerned. My not having a kid is probably for the best, cause ONE fucked-up life is all I want to take responsibility for.
I'm sure her very recent desire for grandchildren is about fear over her own mortality. Which is understandable. What is unfortunate is that we can't have a REAL conversation about death. She won't even go back to her psychiatrist and talk to him about it. All she'll do is talk incessantly about it, and when I complain, she'll say that "it's inevitable - everybody dies". She never was one to take responsibility for anything.
***
At the same time, I don't want to leave the house, and I want to be around people. At the same time, I really despise people, and miss meaningful interaction. Needless to say, I feel a little nuts. I'm assuming my desire to be a hermit is a defense mechanism. Pretty effective, I must say. If I don't get close to people, I won't care, and cause myself a lot of grief. Caring about people = grief. Which is all well and good if it actually worked. I just don't feel safe. It's a "deeper" safe than physical safety. Emotional? Spiritual? I'm not sure. But safety is a factor.
Speaking of feeling safe: I dreamt about Michael for the first time since he died, this morning. I'm not very sure what the dream was about - I do remember thinking about it in that place between sleeping and waking and snapping awake saying "Oh shit, I just dreamt about Michael!" In the dream, we were at my childhood home, and he was sleeping in my parent's bedroom (our bedroom?) and I was trying not to wake him. The room was partly open to the outside, and I think I was picking something from a tree & trying to be quiet about it - I think. It was a odd dream, even for me. Ha! It just hit me how much I miss him. Butthead.
He told me once that he didn't feel safe with me - then I had no idea what he was talking about. Now, I completely get it. I can't help but wonder if that dream is related to this "safety" theme.
I remember when I was with my most recent ex (12 years ago now?). I used to wake up with a start when he'd walk in the room or if he was there getting dressed while I was sleeping. I mean MAJOR fight/flight response. Serious terror - and I never knew why. It used to get on his nerves. After awhile it got on mine too. But I never understood until much later, what that was all about. I can still only guess it was a "safety" thing, but I wish I could be really clear on what my subconscious was picking up on.
***
Mom now wants me to have a kid (which she'd be happy to help take care of!). I reminded her that:
a. I'm 41 years old, and single.
b. If I had a kid tomorrow, when it's 15, I'll be almost 60!
She told me that I could adopt. I reminded her that:
a. I have a crappy no-where job, and can't afford a kid
b. In addition to the above, I'm single.
I SUPPOSE I could find a guy with kids to satisfy her request - but would it be the same? Probably not - she's more interested in BABIES than she is in kids, so unless the kids were under a year old, she wouldn't really be interested.
It's a moot point, of course, because at this point having a kid is outside the realm of possibility as far as I'm concerned. My not having a kid is probably for the best, cause ONE fucked-up life is all I want to take responsibility for.
I'm sure her very recent desire for grandchildren is about fear over her own mortality. Which is understandable. What is unfortunate is that we can't have a REAL conversation about death. She won't even go back to her psychiatrist and talk to him about it. All she'll do is talk incessantly about it, and when I complain, she'll say that "it's inevitable - everybody dies". She never was one to take responsibility for anything.
***
At the same time, I don't want to leave the house, and I want to be around people. At the same time, I really despise people, and miss meaningful interaction. Needless to say, I feel a little nuts. I'm assuming my desire to be a hermit is a defense mechanism. Pretty effective, I must say. If I don't get close to people, I won't care, and cause myself a lot of grief. Caring about people = grief. Which is all well and good if it actually worked. I just don't feel safe. It's a "deeper" safe than physical safety. Emotional? Spiritual? I'm not sure. But safety is a factor.
Speaking of feeling safe: I dreamt about Michael for the first time since he died, this morning. I'm not very sure what the dream was about - I do remember thinking about it in that place between sleeping and waking and snapping awake saying "Oh shit, I just dreamt about Michael!" In the dream, we were at my childhood home, and he was sleeping in my parent's bedroom (our bedroom?) and I was trying not to wake him. The room was partly open to the outside, and I think I was picking something from a tree & trying to be quiet about it - I think. It was a odd dream, even for me. Ha! It just hit me how much I miss him. Butthead.
He told me once that he didn't feel safe with me - then I had no idea what he was talking about. Now, I completely get it. I can't help but wonder if that dream is related to this "safety" theme.
I remember when I was with my most recent ex (12 years ago now?). I used to wake up with a start when he'd walk in the room or if he was there getting dressed while I was sleeping. I mean MAJOR fight/flight response. Serious terror - and I never knew why. It used to get on his nerves. After awhile it got on mine too. But I never understood until much later, what that was all about. I can still only guess it was a "safety" thing, but I wish I could be really clear on what my subconscious was picking up on.