Krissie: Downer

Photo on 2013-07-11 at 08.52 Don’t bother to read this, guys. I just need to talk a little.
So it’s the anniversary of my mother’s death. It’s not so much her death that bothers me now — she was almost 98, she lived independently (with my help) and she was facing having to live in some sort of assisted living. She was smart and with it until the end. Whatever my unresolved issues with her were, those have faded (at least, pretty much).
I think it’s more that it was the end of a section of my life. The end of my family of origin (only Mini-me is left). And whether I want it or not, I keep thinking of my life so far, and I think mostly of loss (right now, that is).
As I child I was a fixer. I was the strongest — stronger than my siblings (not so much a stronger will — Taffy could be quite fierce when she wanted her own way) but stronger in holding things together. Much stronger and wiser than my parents, even when I was ten. Seriously. At least in terms of emotional intelligence and common sense. And God knows I tried to hold them together. Tried so hard I started trying to kill myself by the time I was in sixth grade.
I think back to my thirties, and how much I desperately wanted to get pregnant. I think back to my forties and the unceasing row of early deaths.
Even the good times make me mournful because they’re over. (No, not all the good times. Just the ones I’m thinking of).
So I think part of it is turning 65. It’s normal to look back at things, take stock. I keep trying to figure out ways things could have been better, but that’s a waste of time. I can’t change it, so why try to figure out? Things hurt.
One of my favorite lines is from The Long Kiss Goodnight — ‘life is pain — get used to it.’
The mother says that to her six year old. And it’s true. It’s full of joy too — but the pain can drown out the joy. (BTW, writers have a bad habit of remembering only the negative reviews, never the raves).
So I’m reliving the pain and the failure. I could never fix things, never make things better, never get what I needed.
(Mind you, I have Richie, which is far more than most people ever have).
But I feel alone. I’ve always felt alone, always looked for family even when I still had a family of origin. I never found the family I needed, and I couldn’t even make the family I wanted. I couldn’t get pregnant, and when I adopted my babies I screwed them up by being way to accepting and loving and not setting boundaries. I wanted to protect them so much I undermined them.
Can’t change that either. At least, I can’t change the past.
I need to let go of the past, but I think I need to process it. Or do I? It seems as if I make sense of it then I can let go. But maybe there’s no making sense of it.
Anyway, the one thing I can remember doing with my mother, from early on, was shopping. She loved shopping, though she only loved cheap stuff. When she took me shopping we had fun.
So I’m going shopping today. Seeing my shrink and then heading off. (I don’t have rehearsals today). I might cry. (Probably will). Might buy an iPad. No rules. Today is for me.
Tomorrow rehearsals start again, and it’ll be a very busy weekend. I’ll worry about that when I get to it.
Today I do what I want, I get over it and move on as best I can.
It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to.

Krissie: check in

Photo on 4-21-13 at 2.22 PM Been trying to get work done this week and not getting as far as I’d like, so my new plan is to go to Sally’s cabin (one that Richie built) and work there. I’ll take pictures. One problem is there’s no internet, but I can survive that, I think. It might be good for me — keep me focused. It just feels too busy here — Richie and Tim are always around, distracting me. Or maybe I’m just easily distracted right now. In Sally’s cabin I can nap and work and nap and the bathroom won’t be that far away.

I did realize what’s been making me a little crazy. I’m coming up on the anniversary of my sister’s death (April 28th) followed very shortly by my 65th birthday. I’ve been having a hard time with my sister’s death since just before my mother died, and now I’ve got that on top of everything else. I’m just really missing my sister, and her anniversary is hard. When she died we had her memorial service and burial right around my birthday (obviously — she died 4 days before my birthday) and I decided not to celebrate them anymore. To go backwards instead of forwards, which seemed an excellent idea. Except when I reached 65, because there’d be all sorts of perks then.
But that’s what’s coming up, and I’m angry and resentful and hopeless.

Crusie says she fully expects to be rich again, while I have the feeling that my life is over. That everything’s done, that nothing but disease and death are waiting.
I know that’s not true. Intellectually I realize how ridiculous that is. But the heart doesn’t often listen to the brain, and it looks as everything’s over.
And then I realized. My sister died about a week and a half before her 65th birthday. I was very aware of that — we’d even gotten her an engraved iPod for her birthday that said “happy 65th.” And I wondered how I’d feel when I reached that age. (I had wondered how I’d feel when I reached 58, the age my father died). So emotionally I see 65 as the death of everything, because my sister and I were very very close through a great deal of my life. In her last ten years she wasn’t very fond of me (not sure why, but she was angry at everyone around then) but before that we did everything together.

It helps, figuring out what’s wrong. I just have to get through the next couple of weeks and I’ll be able to look at things a little more clearly. On top of everything it’s also the time of year I get blue anyway (SAD, I expect). I woke up this morning and there was snow everywhere. It gets really frustrating.
But it’s going to be okay. I just have to put one foot in front of the other and it will be all right. I need to cry about Taffy (and my mother, and brother, and nephew, and Jesus, I even started crying about my father, who died 43 years ago). People die, and you feel their loss forever. You just move on. Things get better, eventually, and you make peace with the loss. I need to stop trying to push everything away.
So, maybe not as perky for the next few weeks. But I’ll be all right.

Today I’m going through boxes and baskets of clothes in my bedroom and then going over to make my workspace work. Tomorrow I hit those keys.

I just dread the other deaths that will come, and they do. But I can’t spend my life hiding and dreading. I’m allowed to weep, though, when things hurt.
And then get back to work.