soapboxdiner

Even on the bad days...

I live alone*, you know, and I have for a very long time. I find nothing wrong with living alone; there are benefits and pleasures in it a lot of the time, in fact. I get to do exactly what I want at the time I want, etc etc. But days like today remind me of what you miss when you live in solitude. And it was a happy reminding, being with family friends (the parents, their two sons, one daughter, one daughet-in-law, and one granddaughter.)

I don't know if I can express what it is to live in a state of virtual (admittedly mostly self-imposed) isolation. You get to a point where you don't even realize just how isolated you are. The spot where friends and family and noise and conversation and distraction fade out of your daily thoughts as you fill your life with other things. Solitary things.

And then you step out when gatherings occur. People you've known for ages - who have known you forever - and sometimes it just feels right. And you wonder why it is exactly that you live such an excluded life.

But in all the happiness of new family additions and catching up with current events, laughter and all that goes with that, there remains that bittersweet quality. Not for yourself or the life you've chosen, but when you peek back into the lives of people you care about.

Daughter is a very gifted and very troubled woman. And with each passing year, she slips further into that troubled state. And to see what that means for her... man. You almost hate to say that it makes you thankful for your own fucked up life, because even your worst day is better than their best.

Daughter is an Astrophysics major - and has been for eight years. Goal: to one day work for NASA. Bright? Fuck. Need you question it? Speaks three languages, spent a year in Central America in the Peace Corps, now a welfare mother whose only hope is going on disability. She has severe bi-polar disorder, steadily draining her of all. Heart breaking to see, as she is completely unaware. And I guess that in itself is a blessing for her because to see and know what is happening around her and to fully be able to understand it would tear her heart out.

Today we arrived at her parents house, and I watched her call up to her parents, "What time is dinner?" and she got no answer. Nobody responded to her question. She asked again, and then asked a third time before she got a gruff, "Dinner is in an hour."

"Oh, then I can take a shower. You said I couldn't take a shower.
...

I can take a shower, right Mom?
...

Okay, I'm going to take a shower."

Nothing was said to her by a soul in that house.

Dinner time came and we all gathered in the kitchen for prayer. Everyone but daughter. Prayer began, and I was forced to interrupt. "Shouldn't we wait for Daughter? I'll go get her."

They were going to begin the meal without so much as letting her know chow was on.

And so she came up with big smiles and hugs, and so we all began. She whispered in my ear - quite loudly - I just smoked some pot!!

Bully for you, Daughter. Probably not holiday dinner conversation though. And her mother just rolled her eyes and turned away.

And so it continued through the rest of the day and evening. Daughter bowled herself up two more times that evening and commenced to clean her pipe with Steven in the very next room. I had to tell her, "Perhaps you should do that later, when children won't be potentially exposed to it unneccessarily."

Oh yes, sorry. Sorry. Sometimes I forget. You know, we should live together. Do you think me and my 12-year-old daugher can move in with you?

Lord help me, no. I love you and feel for all the pain you go through. I'm here for you and want to help you. But I cannot allow you to live in my home. It would just Not Be Healthy.

And she talked and talked about how much better her relationship with her parents had become. How they had never been closer. And the family turned away. No one spoke a single civil word to Very Troubled Daughter.

And even on my worst days, I take a little solace in knowing, I at least have an awareness of myself. And that is a thing to very much be thankful for. I told my mother on the drive home, "You'd better not EVER treat me the way The Mother treated Daughter tonight. You might as well kill me before you treat me that way. I wouldn't be able to bear it."

*With the exception of my son. I love him endlessly and cannot imagine life without him and all that, but living with a child does not really equate to living with a seperate, independent, mature adult person.

10:33 pm - 11.28.02
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