|quality of life
||[Jan. 29th, 2005|11:26 am]
okay. in class. the english/fiction major will use fragments, misuse punctuaion and generally defy grammar and language protocol in efforts to get something down here...
ayperi_najidah got me thinking. my brother is dying: this has me thinking. i'm thinking but not getting anywhere. i have issues with critical thinking and no one to talk me through them. i can't quite take things to their logical conclusion. it seems i never have time, or when i do have time, i'm recouping from yet another blow from somewhere.
the past two or three being exceptionally bad years: my own health issues and operation. losing my car to a drunk driver and knowing there was no money for the police to investigate and hold someone responsible. losing my job, being thrown out of corporate america back to basic service industry: coffee shops, retail, waiting tables, etc. i'm not ABOVE this, but on top of everything else, it adds to the stress. i could zone and meditate while entering data. i can't zone now or i get folks angry. i miss the zoning time. i'm just sick of feeling like a machine for others or... a pet.
people assume dogs love them. dogs are just afraid to lose the warmth they get. they're afraid to lose a sense of belonging somewhere in the pack. i feel like a stray. i'm smiling. i'm smiling: can i get you anything else? can i refill your coke? do you need napkins? i got almost $50 in tips one night. it was an exceptional night, but i know that part of what got me that money was making folks think that i was rolling on my back, showing my belly and that was my natural position. maybe it is.
eric's situation makes me think, too. i don't want to be alone. but i don't want him to feel he's MY pet. he talks about his medication and i know i don't want him to go through the terror, anger and paranoia i see him go through when he's off the meds. but when he's on it, he's lucid enough to see how little he matters to most people. he can see their revulsion. he's ME, basically. and why would i want anyone to experience THAT? well, because he's calmer, even if he doesn't have that sense of importance his paranoia gives him. he's safe, even though he doesn't get the rush he must get from the fear when he's psychotic. i suppose it's a trade-off, i guess. i might let him go off meds, but it's too much energy for me. and i wouldn't be able to work and make sure he was safe. anyway, sense of identity and quality of life are important. but,that's the deal we have.
something's wrong. i have no way to figure out how to improve quality of life for both eric and myself. i'm on autopilot. i can't shut off the auto-pilot. even if i crash and burn, at least i wouldn't feel helpless, useless.
i don't know what i'm talking about. again: no concentration. no forward progress, just mulling, circling, treading. i'm not sure what to make of my brother dying, either. there's a heaviness. there's weight. but there are no tears. i go back and forth: am i pragmatic? am i heartless? am i childish? if i were heartless, it wouldn't matter to me what happens to his kid. but it does. there's just nothing i can do. i have no money. my sister HAS kids. she makes more than me. she's X-tian and doesn't think there's anything wrong w/being a drone on some level. though i don't show it, something in me rebels at having to go to work at all. rurounitj quit his job; he's got nothing else set up. i lived vicariously through him. he's feeling a rush of freedom. i've always said the last 2 weeks at a job is the best; after you've handed in notice. i wanna hand in notice...