What a fortnight!
The son's rollercoaster of a job situation has stressed me more than I think I realised. First he has a job - then he doesn't - then he does - then he doesn't - and now he does again! Although I've been carrying it as lightly as I could, and thinking of the loss of the job as a potential positive, I do think it's affected me. Still, everything seems to have turned out OK - but his new manager is a complete arse as far as I can see.
Yesterday was the first anniversary of my sister-in-law's death. I was determined not to get all slushy and sentimental about it, because a) that's not how I am and b) it would have felt hypocritical, since we made minimal effort to keep in touch. But I think I took the whole thing a bit too far the other way and appeared completely uncaring, especially towards my husband who did, after all, lose his sister. He also reminded me of all the help she offered us as a family so many times. I feel like an ungrateful bitch.
And today, the 28th anniversary of the Hillsborough Disaster, weighs heavier on my heart than the death of a person I actually knew. How is that possible? How can the mere mention of the word bring tears to my eyes, but my sister-in-law's name doesn't?
I think it has something to do with my self-reliance. Because I am used to doing so much for myself, I assume that I've done EVERYTHING for myself ALWAYS. But, of course, that's nonsense. Nobody does everything alone. Thinking of my sister-in-law reminds me that I do owe her - but the victims of Hillsborough were unknown to me, I really don't owe them anything. It is, therefore, easier to think of them with a sense of loss.
That made far more sense in my head. Writing it out, it sounds really fucked up.
Yesterday was the first anniversary of my sister-in-law's death. I was determined not to get all slushy and sentimental about it, because a) that's not how I am and b) it would have felt hypocritical, since we made minimal effort to keep in touch. But I think I took the whole thing a bit too far the other way and appeared completely uncaring, especially towards my husband who did, after all, lose his sister. He also reminded me of all the help she offered us as a family so many times. I feel like an ungrateful bitch.
And today, the 28th anniversary of the Hillsborough Disaster, weighs heavier on my heart than the death of a person I actually knew. How is that possible? How can the mere mention of the word bring tears to my eyes, but my sister-in-law's name doesn't?
I think it has something to do with my self-reliance. Because I am used to doing so much for myself, I assume that I've done EVERYTHING for myself ALWAYS. But, of course, that's nonsense. Nobody does everything alone. Thinking of my sister-in-law reminds me that I do owe her - but the victims of Hillsborough were unknown to me, I really don't owe them anything. It is, therefore, easier to think of them with a sense of loss.
That made far more sense in my head. Writing it out, it sounds really fucked up.