Don't pee on my shoes and tell me it's raining.
17 has turned 35
March 6, 2004
OK, so 17 has turned 40, sue me.
Yes, my 40th birthday was last Saturday. I don't really much care at all, well, not in an OH-MY-GOD-I-AM-FORTY kinda way. But the approach of that number, and the direction my life has taken (or NOT taken) in the last few years, have combined to make me realize a few things. A lot of things, actually. None of them is particularly flattering to me. And I guess "realize" isn't really an accurate word. I've realized them all along, but evidently I've refused to deal with them.
So here, where nobody will bother me, I'm going to try and talk myself through some of this crap. If I write about you here and you happen to stumble upon it, I hope it's flattering. If it's not, well, I'm sorry. This isn't about you, it's about me. I'll try to change names to protect the not so innocent where possible - best I can do.
I don't really have any idea where to begin. I suppose my thoughts will jump around quite a bit. Some things I've been thinking about lately, in no particular order:
My mother...her life, her death, my relationship with her, how incredibly, undeservedly lucky I was to be her daughter
Gordie...lordy! LOL, there's so much about me he doesn't know. I wonder if it will make a difference.
Robert...the uber-insanity of our relationship and how I'm trying so hard not to repeat that, ever.
Ken...the insanity of our relationship, while not nearly on the same level as that above, and how I'm trying so hard not to repeat that, ever.
My addictions...I'm very lucky, no pills or booze for me, just insanity. I'm addicted to co-dependent, insane, impossible, drama-laden relationships. I'm addicted to filling up the hole with unhealthy things. I'm addicted to spending too much and eating too much.
My many shameful faults, habits, actions...a few of which I've mentioned above. Some of which embarrass me beyond words. For all of which, with the possible exception of the slight influence of heredity, the blame can be squarely settled on my shoulders.
Lest I sound like I'm all doom and gloom and anger and bitterness, there's some good stuff rattling around up there, too. I'll mix it in occasionally, I promise.
