Day 2 of cleaning out my emails. I've stumbled upon messages from friends of friends. Not going to name names, but messages of support, especially after we've all been grieving over the loss of a friend. Some closer than others. Though I could say I cared about her, I don't think I was as close as other friends. One in particular struck me, saying that I should try living without much to my name. I'm wondering if I should have now. Yesterday I mentioned the separation... Has anyone had a parent that was so overbearing that they practically dictated everything you do?
I've had time to think about it. I didn't like living an Iowa but a friend of my sister's said I could find happiness wherever I go. And I probably could have. It's become apparent to me that what soured me on the idea of living in Iowa was not being away from everything I was familiar with. It was the fact that I had no say in the matte. Iowa is a beautiful place with rolling hills and vast meadows, but for me it felt like a prison. I wasn't there by my own choosing. I may have pushed people away because I wanted to leave so badly. But now I'm "home"... And I think back, and wonder what I could've done differently. I clearly didn't handle the situation well and if I had everyone might've been better off for it. I chose instead to live for the past and not look into the future.
Now I'm 35 years old. And I've wasted what seems like 10 years of my life being unhappy because I felt like I had no control over my life. Still don't completely think I do. I'm going to be moving in with a friend. I'm hoping he can help me get away from the way of thinking my experience growing up has lead me into. I'm not the person I want to be and I'm painfully aware of it. I spent my life trying to be the teacher's pet, trying to work my way up the corporate ladder. And for what? I had a good thing and I took it for granted. Dammit this is going to turn into a long post... Enjoy the ride...
A long time ago I knew a woman named Ruth Smith. I remember her being a kind old lady, she ran a clock shop, and she had a few sons. Sadly most of them have died. One committed suicide, the other died in a boating accident, so I'm told. The one that's still alive is a friend of my father's, he was friends with their side of the family. I used to do weeding for her, and she would pay us too. It wasn't a corporate job, sure, but it was honest work. She'd always let us come in after working and we'd have beverages. One day however I was trying to get, you know, a job. I think I flat out told her that this wasn't "corporate" enough. If I had seen that younger version of me I ought to have smacked him for saying such a thing.
Sometime later, she offered to be sort of a grandmother figure. I felt personally insulted by that. See, I never knew my grandparents growing up. The only thing I have from them is a little stuffed Giraffe. I still have it to this day, might become something of a family heirloom at this point. The thing has a broken neck but I still love that thing. Well, not long after that I heard she had died, fallen down a flight of stairs. The woman insisted on living by herself, and I will respect that but she had nobody to look after her. (On a tangent, sadly that still remains true for a lot of elderly people. Please take care of your family if anyone is reading this.) I guess the moral of that story was that the grass is always greener on the other side. You don't know what you have until it's gone. I've only had one other opportunity to work under the table for someone, and as much as I liked getting paid for it, it wasn't the type of work I was happy with, but it was still better than most job's I've taken. I've moved on since then, but that's always been the type of work arrangement I've preferred, nothing tax deductable or anything, just working for someone and getting a check or something. Working for a major corporation is overrated and nobody in their right mind would aspire to do such a thing. All that makes you is a tool for someone else to use. You're better off working for a family owned business, maybe some mom & pop shop just around the corner, or working for someone who just has money and a problem. I've had that. I've lost it. Now I want it back. I didn't realize how good I had it.
I guess the other thing I wanted to say with this is don't look a gift horse in the mouth. The old woman was just trying to offer me comfort and I couldn't even be bothered to come to her funeral. I should have at least paid my respects. I don't even know where she's buried for chrissake and it would be the least I could do to offer her flowers at her headstone for all the things she had done for me growing up! Now that I think about it maybe I should look up how to say "sorry" in the language of flowers...
... I think I'm going to keep writing to this actually. I asked for a journal (I guess you'd call it a diary) with a lock on it to keep my most private thoughts, and while I won't write SOME of the stuff there that I would in there, at least it gives me an outlet for some of my private thoughts. I mean, who even visits Blogger anymore anyway? There's probably a handful of people who would even see this and even then I don't really care. I just need a space where I can be my true self, maybe navigate the treacherous maze that is my mind and find the truth about myself through it all. People are complicated and I'm no exception, sometimes I don't even understand myself, and that scares me.
No comments:
Post a Comment