House Sitting

This is Sissyface's new kitty, Scout. She loves sleeping under my chin at night, or moving back and forth between my neck and chin as a means of getting me to pet her while I sleep. Last night I thought a spider was walking across my face; I swiped at it and, as I did so, realized it was Scout's whiskers which had tickled my face.

I'm on day 5 of house sitting for Sissyface, who is in Arizona until Sunday visiting our mother. This is the first day I've actually begun to feel bored, and somewhat lonely. I popped into the pub for breakfast this morning, out of sheer desperation, for I hadn't left the apartment since Saturday. Luckily I managed to scrounge together enough for my usual eggs, hash browns and sausage, and a nice cold iced tea to drink it all down.

Wouldn't it be nice if we could schedule things like crying jags, or mini breakdowns? I'm saying this because this week would be a perfect time for me to deal with the past year:  Tim's accident, all the times I've moved, my youngest going to jail, Tim's ex hounding me and sending me scathing e-mails as he lay in a coma. And even as I write this, my little grand daughter, less than a week old, is in NCU fighting to survive.

I've never had a good cry over any of this--not even over my son's accident and its repercussions on the rest of his life. So adept am I at keeping everyone from seeing me fall apart that when I need to, and have privacy to do so, I can't. Just once I'd like to totally let go; rant and rave, beat my breast, be the one who needs constant watch care and help. I'd like to be on the receiving end for once. It's not that I don't have people around me who would gladly care for me if I did fall apart, it's more that I'd never allow them to see me in that condition in the first place.

Is it pride which keeps me from allowing my human needs to show? Or is it simply a matter of having had to live this way as a child in order to survive not only abuse, but the lack of any kind of parental nurturing? It strikes me as funny that I don't know how to receive nurturing, but I give it all the time. I have no difficulty being there emotionally for my sons and grandkids, my friends, or my sister. In fact, it comes natural to me to do so. Do I think they deserve to be taken care of, but I don't?

What I'm weary of is this: how my past still affects my present. There's no use bewailing the reality of this, it's simply how things have worked out for me. Not unlike Tim, who is having to learn a whole new kind of normal, I am still attempting to adjust to the impact of events which transpired over 30 years ago. Will I ever be done making adjustments, or at least come to the point of not realizing I'm doing so? Only time will tell, time and the patience to believe I'm worth hanging in there for. 

Comments

[Enola]

I am the exact same way - unable to fall apart when I have the time, space and perceived safety to do it. Too bad we can't schedule our breakdowns!

[Austin]

I'm use to holding it together for me, for someone else, for something. I'm just use to holding it together. It's hard to let go even when an opportunity shows itself. I wonder if you could write an entry about what it would be like your last few days at Sissyface's house if you did let go. I'd start out with explaining the deep pain that moves you to tears, the look on your face, the feeling in your heart. If you are unable to express it any other way use what we all know you have, your writing ability.

I'm going to do an entry about letting go.
Austin

[keepers]

you ARE worth hanging on for! please, never forget that

Keepers

[keepers]

somehow we forgot to comment on Scout!! How cute!!! Our littles were oohing and aahhing over the cute widdle kitty.

keepers

[beautifuldreamer]

Scout's a cute one, alright! It's funny how the 3 grown cats are afraid of her.

I tried to take a photo the other day of my granddaughter, Maddy, kissing Scout's nose but the stupid camera wouldn't work.