So my video didn’t work, eh? I’ll have to figure it out — if worse comes to worst Jenny can help me.
But … back to this dyspeptic lunch of mine. What I loved about the play (well, I loved everything about the play except how tired I got) was that I had one priority for that period of time. All the other stuff could be ignored. But now all those tiny demons are clawing away at me, scraping my skin away, leaving me raw and exposed and bleeding and wolves can smell blood just like a shark and …
Deep breath. In general I’m not a worrier. That’s Richie’s job. In general I embrace life and look for solutions and laugh. An old roommate of mine, one I haven’t seen in well over forty years, emailed me and said when she thought of me she thought of the word Dionysiac. And think how even more so I am. ( 1 Greek Mythology relating to the god Dionysus. 2relating to the sensual, spontaneous, and emotional aspects of human nature. Compare with Apollonian.) And she mainly knew me before I was 23.
But I digress. I suddenly see too many things to do, too many things to juggle, and the problem is, so many of them are out of my control. I need to take a deep breath and start taking care of things, one by one.
1. Help Tim apply for a car loan
2. Help Tim and Erin find a place to live
3. Help Kaim find a loan for the last three semesters or work out a loan from us
4. Make arrangements for my new car.
5. Finish reading and revising NIGHTFALL
6. Start the new book
7. Pick up my sewing machine
8. clear my office
9. Unfuck my habitat
10. Calm down.
I’m going to be a grandmother. I’m already a grandmother, and I want to make very sure that Alex doesn’t feel he’s any less a grandchild than the new baby will be, but in fact, this will be Tim’s legal child (Alex isn’t — there’s still a sperm donor-type around who won’t let go of custody but who is downright horrid). And Erin’s (planned) pregnancy is bringing up all sorts of stuff long-buried and bad wolf is going num-num and good wolf is a happy puppy getting swatted away by the bad wolf and …
First off — in helping the kids. It’s what I do. Not enable them, but help them work toward independence so we can get the hell out of Dodge (but I can always come back and visit at the drop of a hat). Tim needs the help — he could qualify for disability but he doesn’t want to, and he’s working and we found a good used car for him that we’re not going to buy for him (we bought all his other cars). And Kaim’s stumped, so we’ll help her figure it out.
But I want to be out in the sunshine, dancing with the good wolf puppy. Not anxious about my family. I need to get them settled and off my plate so I can concentrate on me.
I know you’ll all tell me to let the kids sink or swim, but accept the fact that I can’t do that. I won’t enable them — it’s a lot easier for me to simply fork over money but I’m not going to do that. But I need to help them, push them a little, deal with stuff. And I need to shake off my demons.
So, Thwack! to the Bad Wolf. I think I need to figure out a little, silent ritual to get rid of him as he gnaws at my liver (yes, I know, I confuse him with Prometheus Bound but that had a profound effect on me when I was young). There’s a term for that, for little things you can do with your body to stop negative thoughts. Like tapping your forehead or something. Anyone remember what that was?
In the meantime, today is computer day. Look at car inventory, apply for Tim’s loan, read UFYH, read NIGHTFALL, make a start on the new book. I can do it. I am Dionysiac. Or Dionysian. Where are my grapes and toga?
I will wrest joy out of anxiety, damn it! If anyone can do it, I can.