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I am Jack's subject line.
It's 6:30 am on a Monday morning, and my brain won't let me sleep. This is not a good time to start thinking about Things, but here I go anyway.
What the hell have I done with my life? Why am I unable to find a job I really love that pays me enough to do what I want to do? I like my current job at Relay, but I make 8.50 an hour. This is fine as long as I don't have to repay student loans. Of course, I do. There are computer jobs available in town which might pay more, but unfortunately only one or two. And they require Microsoft skills, which I have, but despise using. I dunno, I'd rather cut my arm off than admin a Win2K server.
Plus there's the whole "office politics" thing. I get the scene at Relay, I understand what's going on. It's a rare place where the managers are there to help you, not to take credit for your successes and blame you for their failures. I can dress how I like, work the hours I want, and read books when I'm not taking calls. And I get good benefits, too. I just don't know what a new place would be like, and I'm sure it wouldn't be as low-key and comfortable.
Then there's the whole "love life" aspect. I don't really have one at the moment. All of the really nice girls I meet are taken, many of them mothers as well. The one girl I really really thought I loved doesn't quite feel the same way. We're still friends, but she's sure we wouldn't work out. She may be right, too. But in the meantime, I'm left with...well, not much.
And why the fuck can't I keep my house clean? I want to, but I can never find the energy to clean things up. It's really starting to get to me, to say nothing of how it inhibits my social life. Girls aren't too impressed when you bring them home to a messy place, even if they're just friends.
None of this is what's REALLY bothering me. My father's coming here for Thanksgiving, and I'm worried sick to death about how it's going to go. Prior to my mother's death, he was a great guy. He had his faults, like anybody, but I could always count on him to be fair, to look past my own disabilities because he had them himself, to be a generally tolerant and understanding person. To, y'know, help. This was still true when he lived with me two years ago, too. He's changed a LOT since then. I wasn't aware of how badly until last year,when he came to visit, and would not stop grousing and grumping about my house.
I admit, I'm no great shakes as a housekeeper, but neither is he. Neither was my mom. Hell, nobody in our family is exactly neat. But whereas before he would be helpful and try to give suggestions, that time he just groused and made sniping comments. It was really very upsetting.
Now this year, I'm not wanting him to stay here. Especially since my sister isn't coming to visit; she's too busy. It's a shame, really, she was great to have around last year, especially to help deal with my dad. So now I have to face up to the idea of telling him that I want him to stay in a motel or something. Folks I've talked to about this have said I'm well within my rights to ask. I mean, sure he's my dad, but he doesn't live here anymore. More to the point, I really don't have the room for another person right now, and I'm not prepared to get the place in the condition necessary for another person to stay here.
Oh, to hell with the above, what's really bugging me is how he's changed. He's...different. He isn't the sympathetic, understanding person I grew up with. I know full well how the death of a loved one can upset a person, and change them, but I had hoped he would come out of it better than before, not worse. I don't want to get into the details on a public journal entry, but suffice to say that I've begun to worry about his mental health. He is seeing a therapist, but nonetheless he seems rather disturbed. I had even begun worrying whether he might have some horrible brain disease like Huntington's. How's that for waking you up in the night in a cold sweat? Not that my dreams about he and I getting into fights and trying to kill each other weren't already contributing to that.
Oddly, I feel better after writing all that.
What the hell have I done with my life? Why am I unable to find a job I really love that pays me enough to do what I want to do? I like my current job at Relay, but I make 8.50 an hour. This is fine as long as I don't have to repay student loans. Of course, I do. There are computer jobs available in town which might pay more, but unfortunately only one or two. And they require Microsoft skills, which I have, but despise using. I dunno, I'd rather cut my arm off than admin a Win2K server.
Plus there's the whole "office politics" thing. I get the scene at Relay, I understand what's going on. It's a rare place where the managers are there to help you, not to take credit for your successes and blame you for their failures. I can dress how I like, work the hours I want, and read books when I'm not taking calls. And I get good benefits, too. I just don't know what a new place would be like, and I'm sure it wouldn't be as low-key and comfortable.
Then there's the whole "love life" aspect. I don't really have one at the moment. All of the really nice girls I meet are taken, many of them mothers as well. The one girl I really really thought I loved doesn't quite feel the same way. We're still friends, but she's sure we wouldn't work out. She may be right, too. But in the meantime, I'm left with...well, not much.
And why the fuck can't I keep my house clean? I want to, but I can never find the energy to clean things up. It's really starting to get to me, to say nothing of how it inhibits my social life. Girls aren't too impressed when you bring them home to a messy place, even if they're just friends.
None of this is what's REALLY bothering me. My father's coming here for Thanksgiving, and I'm worried sick to death about how it's going to go. Prior to my mother's death, he was a great guy. He had his faults, like anybody, but I could always count on him to be fair, to look past my own disabilities because he had them himself, to be a generally tolerant and understanding person. To, y'know, help. This was still true when he lived with me two years ago, too. He's changed a LOT since then. I wasn't aware of how badly until last year,when he came to visit, and would not stop grousing and grumping about my house.
I admit, I'm no great shakes as a housekeeper, but neither is he. Neither was my mom. Hell, nobody in our family is exactly neat. But whereas before he would be helpful and try to give suggestions, that time he just groused and made sniping comments. It was really very upsetting.
Now this year, I'm not wanting him to stay here. Especially since my sister isn't coming to visit; she's too busy. It's a shame, really, she was great to have around last year, especially to help deal with my dad. So now I have to face up to the idea of telling him that I want him to stay in a motel or something. Folks I've talked to about this have said I'm well within my rights to ask. I mean, sure he's my dad, but he doesn't live here anymore. More to the point, I really don't have the room for another person right now, and I'm not prepared to get the place in the condition necessary for another person to stay here.
Oh, to hell with the above, what's really bugging me is how he's changed. He's...different. He isn't the sympathetic, understanding person I grew up with. I know full well how the death of a loved one can upset a person, and change them, but I had hoped he would come out of it better than before, not worse. I don't want to get into the details on a public journal entry, but suffice to say that I've begun to worry about his mental health. He is seeing a therapist, but nonetheless he seems rather disturbed. I had even begun worrying whether he might have some horrible brain disease like Huntington's. How's that for waking you up in the night in a cold sweat? Not that my dreams about he and I getting into fights and trying to kill each other weren't already contributing to that.
Oddly, I feel better after writing all that.
no subject
If it is simply - well not simply, but only a matter of him falling into a depression, perhaps sharing honestly and lovingly as you did in your entry will get through to him. One can certainly pray for it. Sharing like that, along with looking at things from the other person's point of view are the two simple but fabulously useful keys that a shrink taught me when I was younger, and I have always found them to be among my most vaulable poessions.
Brains work in such strange ways, as you as a Malkavian well know, so it may be some other reason, as great as you fear or frustratingly small. Is he getting the right vitamins and nutrients? Is he having trouble sleeping? I don't know if you can ask him these things, but I hope in some way you can find out.
I'll be praying for you both.
no subject
I'm sorry things are so unsettling. Wish I had a magic wand for you. Have you considered that your dad may have Alzheimer's? Personality changes are pretty much one of the hallmarks.
My love & prayers are with you.
no subject