Reunions
So, I'm sitting here in my house instead of sitting on a plane that will land shortly in San Diego, and then in a rental car that will head up to Oceanside. My parents and youngest brother were all on it, but yesterday, in a fit of really rather painful insecurity, self loathing and depression, I decided not to go. The thought of being cooped up with nearly every single one of my mother's sisters' families for the weekend was freaking me out. So here I sit, at home alone for the next week, not quite sure what to do with myself.
I really did want to go for a walk on the beach every day. The area isn't crowded and commercialized. It would have been calming and beautiful and maybe even fun. I wanted to go to the pier and get an ice cream sundae, or whatever else sounded good at the diner at the end of it. The last time we had a family reunion there, I spent the majority of my time just sitting and staring at the ocean, listening to the waves. It wasn't unpleasant. But this time I couldn't even get myself to pack and go get on a plane.
Sure I have excuses. Whisper needs to be on antibiotics till they run out and we're only halfway there, and none of the people available to cat-sit would have been able to catch her and dose her twice a day. There's herbs and flowers and the garden to water. Okay, anyone would have been able to do that much, so it's not much of a reason, so I guess I only have the one excuse.
And I have things to do. I have plenty of materials to make new jewelry for a show that's coming up on the 22nd. I have writing exercises to help me regain my creativity, and writing exercises to help me overcome my rampant depression. Sometimes they even help a little bit. For a little while. Sometimes. The weather is actually pretty decent today, not steamy. I could go for a walk. Or go for a swim at the rec center and soak in the hot tub. Or go to the library. I still need to read The Dresden Files series by Jim Butcher. I could get up and fix myself something to eat today. I should probably eat today.
I do better when I'm concentrating on doing things. Well, doing things that require some concentration, but not a lot of stress and worry. Things I'm already pretty good at. Baking, jewelry making, drawing, reading. So I should get up and do one or more of those things to take up my time and keep me sane(ish) till I can finally justify (or force myself) to go back to sleep and be unconscious for the generally accepted sleeping hours of most of humanity.
So many good options, right? Things that will help me fill the time and keep me from thinking too much about the people who are going to miss me being there, and the people I should love enough to want and take the opportunity to build my relationships with them. My own nieces and nephews who I love very much, but was afraid of alienating with my reclusive behavior and frayed temper. So many things to do instead of being somewhere pretty important, doing things that might have been difficult, but ought to be done, and could have been some sort of fun.
And I could find someone today who could feed the cats and water the plants and give me a ride to the airport, and then I could stand by to get on a flight to San Diego tomorrow or Friday. My family would come down from Oceanside and pick me up and be happy that I came, and no one at the reunion would know that I dissed them all and almost stood them up entirely if I got my crap together and got out there.
So many options. And here I sit.
I really did want to go for a walk on the beach every day. The area isn't crowded and commercialized. It would have been calming and beautiful and maybe even fun. I wanted to go to the pier and get an ice cream sundae, or whatever else sounded good at the diner at the end of it. The last time we had a family reunion there, I spent the majority of my time just sitting and staring at the ocean, listening to the waves. It wasn't unpleasant. But this time I couldn't even get myself to pack and go get on a plane.
Sure I have excuses. Whisper needs to be on antibiotics till they run out and we're only halfway there, and none of the people available to cat-sit would have been able to catch her and dose her twice a day. There's herbs and flowers and the garden to water. Okay, anyone would have been able to do that much, so it's not much of a reason, so I guess I only have the one excuse.
And I have things to do. I have plenty of materials to make new jewelry for a show that's coming up on the 22nd. I have writing exercises to help me regain my creativity, and writing exercises to help me overcome my rampant depression. Sometimes they even help a little bit. For a little while. Sometimes. The weather is actually pretty decent today, not steamy. I could go for a walk. Or go for a swim at the rec center and soak in the hot tub. Or go to the library. I still need to read The Dresden Files series by Jim Butcher. I could get up and fix myself something to eat today. I should probably eat today.
I do better when I'm concentrating on doing things. Well, doing things that require some concentration, but not a lot of stress and worry. Things I'm already pretty good at. Baking, jewelry making, drawing, reading. So I should get up and do one or more of those things to take up my time and keep me sane(ish) till I can finally justify (or force myself) to go back to sleep and be unconscious for the generally accepted sleeping hours of most of humanity.
So many good options, right? Things that will help me fill the time and keep me from thinking too much about the people who are going to miss me being there, and the people I should love enough to want and take the opportunity to build my relationships with them. My own nieces and nephews who I love very much, but was afraid of alienating with my reclusive behavior and frayed temper. So many things to do instead of being somewhere pretty important, doing things that might have been difficult, but ought to be done, and could have been some sort of fun.
And I could find someone today who could feed the cats and water the plants and give me a ride to the airport, and then I could stand by to get on a flight to San Diego tomorrow or Friday. My family would come down from Oceanside and pick me up and be happy that I came, and no one at the reunion would know that I dissed them all and almost stood them up entirely if I got my crap together and got out there.
So many options. And here I sit.