|Posted by The Thinking Other Woman on April 17, 2022 at 1:35 PM|
After nearly two weeks, I had thought my mysterious visitor had finally decided never to come back. But, this morning, there he was. #8309....
This time appearing as if from "Baltimore," the person skipped over the antidepressant post, the book post, the link post, and the "Reality Bites" post, to read "Let's Just Kiss and Say Goodbye." (Boy, those lyrics were spot-on!)
Who else would do that??? It Must Be Him.
But it really doesn't matter anymore. I told him to quit coming here. I wouldn't be surprised if he did just that.
Either way, I have to change. I can't spend the rest of my life being this needy little character who lives for whether or not one particular person still reads her blog after seven long years.
Seriously. What kind of person does that? If that's the highlight of your week, you are a.) high on delusional expectations, because b.) you have no life.
I don't expect I ever will have a life. Making friends in your fifties is not like it was in your twenties. In your twenties everyone is still in the same life stage--trying life out, discovering sex for the first time, unattached, dreaming of what their futures might be.
In your fifties, you don't have to wonder. You KNOW what your future is going to be. Most everybody else is living the future they stumbled into in their twenties, and been hardened into a certain kind of person because of it. There isn't that fluidity anymore in your life, in your thinking, or in your body. Everybody's strapped down by a family and the need for money. Everybody's stuck in that job, job, job. Everybody's thinking is tied down to church, family, and Faux Newz.
I tried having a life several years ago, before covid 19, joining clubs and going to meetings and stuff, and finding no one. Nothing fit, nothing clicked, and nothing stuck. I sat among dozens of other people alone.
And I will always be apart from most people, because all these things happened to me. Who else has a mother mentally ill and fixated on mental health topics all their life? Who else got stuck on a married man for seven long years? (Well ... since 1998, if you consider when I first met him and realized I liked him.) Thank heavens for my husband. At least with him I had a better-than-normal relationship and friendship, for eleven years at least.
It just wasn't conducive to gadding about and making friends. And now, it's too late. I'm not the kind of person who meshes well together with most other people. If I ever had the friend-making gene, it's gone dormant. I don't even know what "normal" people talk about anymore. What do you do to make friends? Can you really let yourself be known, if you had an affair with a married person? Probably not, because People. Are. Judgmental. So I'd always be just a smoke screen around other people anyway.
I understand now that I've been given these ingredients, and only these ingredients, to create happiness or at least equanimity with: My job. My condo. Housework. Trying to cobble together a better diet and at least some exercise around a full time job and having to do everything all by myself. And a book and promoting that book.
Instead of crying about how things didn't turn out differently, I had better get on with it.
Old age will be here before I even know it, and the only thing I will be getting on with then is trying to make it to the bathroom and the doctor's office on time.
Until then, I see that I will be living a life devoid of people. And, considering most people around here are stupid Dumpists who don't believe in covid and are about to vote us into a disintegrating downward trajectory of RethugliKKKan facism from which the entire nation will emerge desperately poor, I'm not missing out on much.
Really, I've been living a life devoid of people most of my entire existence. Isn't it time I ended this codependent dependence on people and on the fantasy of one particular person and learned to cook with only what I have in the kitchen? You can't go out to the grocery store and just pull a right friend or companion off of the shelf.
Yesterday, I took a two-mile walk (I'm happy to say the muscle soreness and pain has abated a lot and it's getting easier) and sat down at Starbucks with the computer to make the book its own website. I generally enjoy website design, although this got annoying and frustrating. But, finally, I have it! (linked on the front page.)
I'm starting to understand that, when you are living a very austere life with little hope of change, the way to get through is just pick a thing and do it. Just find something to work on. Something you enjoy and believe contributes at least a little value somewhere. None of us are going to contribute huge value anyplace. We're just serfs and peons.
Pick something, work on it, and just shut up. That's the secret to surviving a life like this.
So, that's what I'm going to do from now on. Just pick this and my book, and work on those, and expect nothing.
We all know what we get when we expect too much, right???