Here comes 2011

Goals:

• Talk less. Much, much less. Maybe stop speaking entirely outside of required communication (work).
• Spend 30 minutes a day cleaning or decluttering. That has to achieve something tangible at the end of 365 days.
• Stay on track to spend less and pay off more debt. Not counting the mortgage, that's like $21,800 to go. Sigh.
• Learn something new, fun, and interesting.
• Read an entire book.
• Do whatever it takes to achieve my dream weight of 105 pounds.
• Blog more.

That's kind of funny

Of all of the gifts and stocking stuffers I gave Frank for Christmas, he seems most delighted with his first pair of reading glasses. It's kind of funny.

The gift that gives back

I can be as gracious as the next person when it comes to accepting a poorly-thought-out gift, but today I have to say that some gifts are definitely more about the giver than the recipient.

My mother gave me "a big and generous" Christmas present. It's a $100 gift certificate for Southwest Airlines. I've been lamenting for over a year how I never get to take a real vacation. On the surface, it seemed like a generous gesture, certainly. Then I read the accompanying note: "Use this to buy a ticket to come see me."

So, it's really a gift for her, not for me at all.

Besides the fact that I don't consider a visit to family to be an actual, bona fide vacation at all, the relevant thing here is that I've always made it clear that I have the money to buy a ticket to Florida--I just don't have time to go except for spring break, and then it's just too expensive, period. I get no paid vacation days at my job. None. Zero. No paid holidays, either. No work, no pay. Traveling during my unpaid vacations when the program is closed limits me to going to Florida in mid-August or going during spring break (the latter usually requiring an airfare of about $500).

Frank says I should just thank my mother and tell her that when I find a $100 fare that coincides with a work closure, I'll fly down to Florida.

Never mind.

Ignore my previous post. I was having a moment. I'm fine and that was ridicuous.

Because I don't see any reason not to

I predict I will take my life in 2011. Yes, I actually said that. How can it be so when my mind hasn't been calmer or sharper in years? How can it be when I'm more functional and well-adjusted than I've been in many years? How can that be when I have more clarity than I've had in a decade? It's precisely because I have that clarity.

I have shown--repeatedly--that I can help make other people's lives better, but I am incapable of improving my own circumstances. I live a paycheck-to-paycheck life that is always on the verge of financial ruin. I vowed I would NEVER discuss my sex life on this blog, but the truth is, Frank and I haven't had sex in ten years. An entire decade. Intercourse is impossible for me because of whatever defect it is that torments my pelvis. I hate, hate, hate being the giver of oral sex, and so intimacy is simply nonexistent in our marriage. AND I HATE THAT. I used to love sex, but my body would have none of it. It pushed me back at every opportunity. As for Frank, he apparently has no libido but won't ask a doctor why. Apparently, he has no desire to work out any alternative to the sex issues. I'm not worth it. He keeps me around because he needs me if he's to afford the house we share.

I also live in physical pain every day. Ahhhh, but I don't look sick--not even a little--so, that means I'm fine or I should just suck it up. In American culture, if you don't look sick, you are not sick. You are not suffering. Your pain is a non-issue for those who are not having it.

So, fifty is looming on May 5, and what will I have to show for it? A job that bores me to tears, a failed attempt at getting my nonprofit to thrive without me micromanaging it, no direction professionally or personally, and a family that couldn't care less--and I'm serious here and not exaggerating--whether I'm alive or dead.

I have one friend. Count that on one finger. Nobody can stand to be around me, to talk to me, to listen to me, to spend time with me. They do it if they must because they have social skills or professional obligation, but would never willingly choose any of that as an option.

This isn't the big thing driving my future, though. It's that my value as a human being lies only in being useful to other people. A good communist would tell you that this is enough, but, goddamn it, I want someone to stand in front of me and say, "May, I enjoy your company on its own merit, and can't imagine not having it available anymore." (insert sarcastic snort laugh here...)

The truth is, I am tired of living my life inside of my own head. If I stopped helping people tomorrow, forever, which is essentially what I have planned for 2011, and focused only on doing things for myself, I would cease to have any relevence in the world whatsoever.

This is not a new realization for me, which is why I have been working so diligently to slog through de-cluttering my home, adding structure and documentation to my work for the next person, and most important of all, paying down and paying off debt. I'm certainly not going to off myself while leaving a financial or work mess for anyone else to have to puzzle through. I may be many things, but I am not inconsiderate. Not intentionally, anyway.

So, maybe this time next year. It will take that long to get out of debt. It is predicted that my workplace will lose all funding and shut down forever then, so it will only follow that I will shut down then, too.

Welcome to the final 12 months of Brainucopia.

Worth staying awake

I love eclipses. They're a highlight of my existence. Tonight is a double-shot: a full lunar eclipse on the solstice.Yummy.

Sophie, this makes me think of you and I hope you and yours are well on this interesting lunar-centric night.

Oy. What was I thinking?

I'm having people over tomorrow night for a holiday party. Twelve of them. In an 1100 square-foot house.

The house is dusty and the floors haven't been washed in a very long time. The clutter. Oh, dear god, the clutter. There is no place to hide it, so I have to actually deal with it.

I'm allergic to dust--it's a paradox. I don't like to clean, but the reason I skip it is just because I sneeze. I sneezed so hard today from dusting, I almost wet my pants. this just slows me down.

If I skip sleep entirely tonight, everything might be presentable by 6:00 tomorrow night.

I'm well, right?

The results of my latest labs came back today. Everything is solidly normal. The psychiatrist has diagnosed me as misdiagnosed and relatively sane.

Still, old thoughts are embedded, seemingly for the long term. There's not a day that goes by that I don't have some sort of suicide ideation. Lately, that's ramping up because it's multiple times during the day. I think I'm actually planning for it. Still.

Perhaps I'm borrowing from Jolie on the 50-year decision. I'm less than six months out, but frankly, I'm not convinced I'm going to make it that far. I don't fit anywhere. I don't connect.

My life is killing me.

I'm just not that liberal

It's official. I'm part Republican. I've known this for a long time, but today I had one of those moments when it was obvious.

Someone sent me an email message imploring me to contact my representatives in Washington and to urge them to pass the DREAM Act. I deleted the message because I do not support this piece of legislation.

Children have long had to suffer for their parents' decisions, and that is never going to change. The DREAM Act just provides one more reason for people to bring their children here illegally instead of going through the channels, procedures, and years of waiting that legal immigrants endure.

I understand that parents who have come here without documentation often do so specifically, if not solely, to make a better life for their children, but they also expect the American people to foot the bill. The students who would benefit from the DREAM Act already got a free education and opportunities they would never had had in their home country. And now they want more?

It seems greedy to me that their parents also expect--even demand--that these kids be granted citizenship, a college education, and access to financial aid simply because they are good students--and it wasn't the kids' fault that they were here illegally.

Parents, you made this decision knowing that there would be consequences for your children. Kudos to you for guiding your children to stay out of trouble, stay in school, and be successful students. Whereas that's something to be proud of, it does not change the fact that you broke the law so you and your family could take advantage of and benefit from the opportunities created by and for the American people.

There are a lot of things I'd like to have, too, but nobody is going to give them to me just because I'm a good person who works hard and lives a clean life. Sorry, you don't get to break the law and then expect it to not apply to you.

Not again

But why?

My sister is going to be sooo disappointed. Oh, that's right. She doesn't realize this is her problem, anyway.

Click to read: Removed from the DSM??

After boredom, what?

I've been working at my current jobs for almost 15 years. Prior to that, being at the same job for more than three years was epic for me.

I'm tired. More than that, I'm bored. Boredom certainly isn't a crisis, but it does feel wasteful. It's not that I dislike what I do, I've simply lost interest. There's no intellectual or creative challenge. How can I move on, though, when I have nowhere to go?

This is no time to go job hunting--not that I plan to. However, even if it were a possibility, I would be faced with this hard fact:

• I have no idea what to do with my life, what to do for a living. My current work showed itself to me like a vision, and it was so clear, I knew that this was where I belonged. Now that's it's been 15 years, I'm ready to move on, but I have nowhere to go. There is no epiphany, no bell, no lightbulb.

Nothing makes me sit up and say, "Yes! that's what I should pursue."

In 1995, I spent four weeks working with a coach, of sorts, who walked me through some soul-searching, aptitude tests, career clusters, and interest inventories. She concluded that I should be working in telecommunications/media or catering. I was actively in the process of getting out of the telecom/media world, and catering felt too emtoionally demanding--I can't stand having to make the general public happy, especially under stressful circumstances.

Beyond those options, no other career areas stood out in my battery of tests. Perhaps this is why I feel so directionless now.

I need some sort of psychic GPS for my life.

I am tired

Exhasuted, actually. It's not a surprise, given my schedule lately, but understanding it doesn't make it any easier to accept.

I used to be an energetic, barreling-through-life person.

I want my functionality back.