The Dregs of Apartment Living and Differing Points Of View


My son texted me on his way to work yesterday afternoon.   “Everything has been stolen out of my car. Nice.”  It was parked in a guest stall in our apartment complex.

Unfortunately he had a few more boxes of belongings to bring into our apartment from our move.  Unfortunately it was a lot of his clothes and his dress shoes, and all of his yearbooks from junior high and high school.

Maybe he will figure out it is important to be motivated enough to finish a task.  I bought him necessities this morning.  I am sad at the reinforcement that some people just don’t have any respect for other people’s belongings.  He is sad, even angry, as his yearbooks were a big part of what little he had left of his childhood.

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Had dinner with hubby, his daughter and son-in-law – it was nice to visit with them  – they know that I am not living there, she thinks it’s kind of weird, but understands.  Nice dinner – except that hubby had a little too much to drink and was a little sloshy.

About 9:30 pm I decided it was time for me to go. We talked briefly about plans for the weekend – tomorrow  he is spending time with his son and daughter for Father’s day – I am  doing my own chores for the weekend and pulling out the remaining few boxes of mine from storage so I can close it down – $100 a month is $ 100!

The concept that I have stuff in storage and that I didn’t have it in and about “our” house seemed disagreeable to hubby.  We obviously have differing ideas about his house being our house (a concept I don’t believe is true because of his attitudes when push comes to shove).  He told me I was hurting his feelings by not having all my stuff there.

He doesn’t understand that the residence is HIS house – with his things, and I simply do not feel there is enough space for me to have my things, my treasures, that represent my life.  It’s nothing personal, I certainly am not offended – there just isn’t room.   He says if I can’t be a “we” in “our house” then fuck me.  He doesn’t realize how often he tells me it’s his house – and his rules go.  Fuck me.

I would love to truly feel we are a “we” – but I don’t. He’s mad again at me.  He was inebriated again.  I don’t know what to say.

Yes, I am enjoying the peace and quiet.

Namaste – I honor you – and your peace and quiet.

Itty Bitty.

 

 

Turning Of Seasons And Changes


Not a day goes by when I want to post here about something going on in my life. The problem is that I am always concerned about the anonymity of those about which I am compelled to write.  So I don’t.  And I don’t know why anyone would want to read about all my DRAMA!  I get sick of it.

My existence continues in flux – all areas of it, it seems.

Work/Income/Self Esteem

My little Villa has now closed after two years – the owner deciding to sell for personal reasons – so I spent the summer wrapping up the last of 8 or so weddings, the last one being November 1.  That chapter of my life is now closed.

While I would love to develop my wedding planning & coordinating business as I have been toying with over the last 6 months to continue on in the wedding/special event industry,  the reality is that my social security income (which I filed for in April) is just not enough to sustain me or allow me to feel productive and contributing to my home.

I have begun applying for hotel management positions once again.  At 64, and in an industry full of youngsters, it will be challenging.  One application (for which I was recommended) went totally unanswered.

A second application has resulted, at least, in a phone interview tomorrow with a corporate HR person.  We shall see how it goes ….

Family

And while trying to carry on with some semblance of a normal life, much of my time has been consumed with nudging my youngest (39) through the maze of recovering to the extent he can from a year and a half of a mixed-state manic/depressive bi-polar episode.  He is working to pick up the pieces of a life fallen apart.  He is dealing with probation as a result of a substance abuse issue he works daily to keep at bay.  He engages 3-4 days a week with a wellness recovery program that deals with mental illness issues on a broad scale and works 3-4 days a week at a minimum wage job (restaurant server) after 10 years of earning $75-$90K a year.  His anxiety levels and mania make it impossible for him to return to his former career path at this time.

As busy as he is, he doesn’t sleep many nights (mania) and efforts by his mental health support team to find the right “cocktail” of meds is a slow process.  We know they are trying, and it IS proving a slow process.

Marriage

And to make it all more challenging, my husband’s home-based environmental consulting business is at 60% of what it was last year, he is stressing about money, and for whatever reasons, he seems incapable of motivating himself to develop the diversification he wants to do to increase business.

In additions to his stresses about money, I was hopeful that he would be my rock emotionally to help me guide my son through his issues. It has become quite clear that hubby has no understanding (or willingness to learn, engage, show compassion) of mental illness – anxiety disorders – bipolar disorders – and how they affect individuals dealing with these.  He sees a 39 year old male who used to earn big bucks, and must simply be mooching off of us, taking advantage of the situation and simply being lazy.

The arguments and frustrations on both our parts have at times made me wonder if I can stay in this marriage.

My son has never in his adult life asked for a thing from me, and been totally self-sufficient since he was 17 years old.   Both he and my daughter (43) suffer from anxiety disorders and genetic pre-disposition to bi-polar disorder and he is in need of emotional (and yes, a little financial support if in no other way than a roof over his head and guaranteed food in his belly) while he finds his way.

My life once again is in flux as it is wont to do … and again I am feeling that old feeling of realizing I can truly count on no one but myself.

Maybe it’s just the changing seasons.  Or the changing seasons of life.

Time for more reflection, introspection and setting a plan for the future.

Namaste and peace to all who are in the midst of change …

Itty Bitty