What’s the buzz, tell me what’s happening

Yeah, so I am not entirely sure wtf is going on with me right now. I hope it’s just a bit of holiday blues, state if the union insanity, randomly floating melancholia. All of that sounds plausible, but I feel rather flat, blase’, too pooped to pop, deflated, out of good ideas. I’m listening to 90s music for the moment, which is full of angst but seems to be a comfortable fit. I went to the potluck-zilla at the UU Fellowship on Thanksgiving Day. It was fine. I counted nearly a dozen pies, 80% of which were apple. I had a reasonably good time, but felt more or less muted.

I was sociable, and thought I was doing a reasonable job of eating somewhat sensibly. I didn’t go back for seconds on anything, and didn’t take huge portions of what I chose to put on my plate. They did their best to label the selections, noting gluten status, common allergens, etc. it was nearly impossible to read the tags once people were moving along the conveyor belt that characterizes buffets, but what I ate was pleasing to the taste buds. Unfortunately, once down the esophagus, my stomach and/or kidney stone had a difference of opinion with some ingredients.

After I got home, I had a spectacular gastric episode, complete with effusion from both all directions. Throwing up was the worst, but there wasn’t any blood. I cannot imagine there was anything at all left in my stomach when I was done, and all I could do was stretch out on the bed and cover up because I had chills. Nothing else to do but go to sleep. I slept for 2 or 3 hours after that dramatic episode, in one of those weird, deep black holes where I wonder if I was entirely alive. I felt slightly better when I woke up, but had to represent myself in the bathroom twice more. It was mercifully over after that, and I stayed in bed until this morning,

I took it rather easy with food today, having a protein shake for breakfast and a personal-size frozen pizza for lunch. I tried to drink a bit more water, which always confounds me, but no stomach upset. After the pizza, I had a slice of the turtle pie I love so much, and it caused no unrest. Thinking back on the events of yesterday, however, I wonder if nuts were the enemy at the potluck. I remember there were nuts in a lot of the selections, and I loved that. Perhaps they didn’t return the ardor. Ugh.

Monday is December 1st, and that brings the start of my new insurance plan. I cannot believe I have a Medicare card. I don’t know what to feel about that, but my feelings about it are entirely irrelevant. I will be 65 within the next 30 days, and nothing is going to change that. In some ways I cannot believe I have survived this long, and in other ways I don’t quite know what to do with myself at this age. Some things don’t work as well as they used to work, but I’ve never taken care of my parts particularly well, so that doesn’t concern me. What concerns me is my aloneness, and lack of accomplishment.

I suppose I should consider it an accomplishment to be sober for nearly 37 years, wherein I’ve ceased to move through the world as a wrecking ball. I have still managed to hurt a few people, and not proud of that, but I would honestly say those incidents are few and far between. In the past, that was an everyday occurrence, as I remember it. Just running roughshod over people, places, things like a lawnmower. I am trying very hard to stay out of the fray, out of the social scene. I am truly without any desire to be mingling and meeting and greeting and getting my motor running over other people stumbling around in the dark with me. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt, outgrew it. Enough.

I am rather lonely, but at least I know what’s in my control here in my own space. There are just certain things I have to accept, whether I like them or not. I have to accept that even though I still believe in miracles, I really don’t think I’m destined to have the love of my life in this lifetime. It’s simply too late, and I’m not sure I’m capable at this point. I’ve got my hands full trying to keep my snout above water, and my body is starting to weigh me down immeasurably. This aging this is not for the faint of heart, or for the weak minded. It is what it is, and that’s all that it is. Mine is neither special nor unique, so let’s just get on with it.

I texted my cousin yesterday to wish her a happy Thanksgiving, and that made me a bit sad. This is a first cousin, and when children we were fine. She and her sisters are my mother’s only sister’s children. I loved my aunt, just like I loved my grandmother, but there was always some kind of weird tension between my mother and just about everyone else. I was the only niece, and the only grandchild, until I was about 9. Things went a little downhill after that…I lost the throne. More importantly, life began to happen. My grandmother died. My parents divorced. My mother descended into some weird kind of high-functioning insanity and began to alienate just about everyone until it was just me and her. Maybe that was her original desire, for me to be hers and hers alone. I don’t know, but it’s hard to not have resentments about that. I always had to choose, but still feel there was really no choice at all.

On that cheery note, I do wonder exactly wtf I am supposed to do now. My mother, my father, grandparents, aunts, uncles are all gone now. What I remember as family and good times in my childhood will never be again. The distance is just too great to traverse, I have very little shared history with my relatives, and that kind of sucks. Chosen family is fine, but I grieve the connection of people I’ve known since I got here. More importantly, I do still feel there’s a line drawn with chosen family and blood family. There are just some things I’ll never rank as high as blood family with even my closest friends. It’s the American way.

Whatever. One more month of this traditional holiday period and I should be back to my usual self. Right now, I really don’t feel all that chipper about much of anything, but … whatever. I’ve given up trying to please people, trying to be perfect for people, making sure I say the right things, don’t cuss too much, remember the correct social conventions of the day. In my deepest of thoughts, I have very unpopular feelings about many issues my social circle espouses. I’m not big into the environmental movement, and don’t recycle almost out of spite. I support and will fight for transgender people, but seriously wonder if they would have the spotlight if the face of the movement was more ethnic. Just sayin’.

Right now, I’m pretty focused on equity and justice for all. Immigration is big right now, not because it’s a new issue, only because there is a sadistic and white supremacy playbook to deal with it. The lies and misinformation are staggering, and too many people believe what is being shoveled out. The fact of the matter is that people are being harmed on a daily basis by this so-called policy, and the large majority of those have done nothing wrong. As long as they can show good metrics, nobody cares. The entire effort is inhumane, but again, nobody cares. There is a blood lust evident now, and it is sickening.

I am just babbling at this point, but it feels like an accomplishment to be writing. I still have no idea what I am going to do with this one wild and precious life, and still wonder if the choice is entirely mine. That has always been my been my decision point, I suppose. Where does my choice begin, and how much can I effectively choose before I am limited by the choices of others? I am not sure there’s an answer for that, so I’ll just go on surviving until something else comes up. Ugh.