I feel like it's getting to me

I am beginning to drown, even as I fight it so hard. I fear the darkness coming.

There's too much stress.

The kitchen drain. I can't pay for a better plumber than a kitty litter bucket. Someone (a lawyer) actually clicked "like" on fb when I put that lament. People really don't understand when your house is falling down around your head.

The horrible appliances. On Sunday, my mother called to brag about her new ones being delivered next week. She did a complete and beautiful remodel a few years ago when she bought this new place, so this has been in the works. Her call came only days after I commented to her that I am sick that my parents and grandparents all have had standards of living higher than mine. She replied that hers is higher b/c of her inheritance from her mother. And I am left to wonder why I got none. Why I am always deprived. Why I am left out. Why is my stove from 1979? I don't invite any of them up and they take it personally. Maybe I should flip that thought and invite them so they can see how hard we have it.

Bea thinks I think I deserve too much.

My life's watchword is deprived. I don't get what I want, even all along from the people who were supposed to care for me. It makes me more ambitious and it is held against me in different ways.

No flooring. Have largely been without carpet downstairs for six or seven years. Yes, concrete is just lovely. And warm. Fuck this county and their fucking flood they would not own up to causing.

Parents with all they want and no consideration for their children, except for peanut incentives. It's not so hard to think of my father that way, b/c he doesn't care, but it's hard to think of my mother throwing scraps my way in the form of airline tickets to visit her, which is darned self-serving.

Spending so much on going to the funeral. And it took so much from me physically - almost two dozen hours of driving. My father gave me $50 for gas and I told him it would cover about half; he seemed surprised at that somehow and I was bewildered at his surprise. Then the next day, he gave my sister $50 for gas, but hers cost less than $10, so it wasn't for gas and I wasn't special or actually being cared for. He spent about $100K on his back yard in the last year w/the outdoor room, garage, and workshop. He's living it up! He does not care about me, just that I show my face at his mother's funeral.

Spending so much on trying to display paintings. In the past few weeks, it's another $100 to make coverings for the display panel racks. And more frames, especially small ones for small works. Damn Michael's coupons and double coupons.

Peanuts. My needs are peanuts. Honestly.

Still needing to make panel covers.

Coordinating the holidays w/o success. My mother wants us down, but J goes to his father's at noon on Xmas, so it is limited. Bea flew into a rage when my mother called to ask us down. Bea never communicated what she wanted beforehand and I was noncommittal with my mother; last year, Bea went to my mother's and then left me in a huff the week after to go to the Bahamas for a week. I cannot depend on her. I do not trust her. Yet, I am supposed to keep her on the list of people to juggle and please.

She thinks she's supposed to come first and that's what normal couples do. I'm here to say that my marriage revolved around visiting his maternal grandparents, his mother, his father if we could find him, his other grandfather if we could fit him, my mother, my father, and my grandparents. And this was supposed to be a fun holiday or even a quick weekend! It was not fun for us. It was for them and they expected two visits each time we went to our hometown! It's how life is. At least they were all in the same town and gas was cheap.

I am not Christian, people. Xmas is not my holiday. I do not care anymore and my only expectation is to not have to be unexpectedly alone.

Trying to do what everyone else wants. I am lost in this. Today I had it thrown in my face that she'll ask about getting together and I'll say that I need to ck my schedule, that her living closer means we should see each other more. Heck, she can come to any drop off, pick up, or Opening she wants to! She's mad at me when she excludes herself!

It isn't out of meanness for me to check my calendar. It is out of consideration. It is what normal people do. Her schedule is not normal and mine is sparse, but I do, for example, need to deliver and pick up paintings according to others' schedules. This week, besides therapy and my son's school schedule, it is a relatively busy one in that I have a drop off on Tuesday evening, a pick up Thursday evening, and a combo on Saturday. All told, it's less than six hours max and completely reasonable. If at all possible weather-wise, I will paint out with a friend, so my official work hours total less than 10 for the week, because I can squeeze in painting fixes/finishing anytime and I don't need to begin framing again until next week. My stuff is flexible and, if it isn't, it doesn't take too long.

I am ambitious. I have been showing less than two years. I average 1-2 sales per month. That's pretty damn good. I sure would appreciate support instead of competition and jealousy about it.

Bea's current fb status.

“Those who do not hate their own selfishness and regard themselves as more important than the rest of the world are blind because the truth lies elsewhere”

Apparently I am selfish and pompous and blind, b/c my mother wants us to come down two years in a row, b/c I paint out with a friend about twice a month on Thursdays, b/c I participate in art shows which actually influence little else and take little time, b/c b/c b/c. I honestly feel like the most unselfish person in the world. I cannot fathom if I had a 50h+commute job each week.

I wrote her a note and said her status must be about herself, b/c I am not selfish in the least.

Wanting happiness and thinking I'd be successful at it if alone, but sadness and frustration win over. I had a fb conversation with an old guy friend from hs. His sister and mother have died over the past few years. When his sister was ailing, one of her friends got her claws into my friend. He resisted for a very long time, but wound up being grateful for her caregiving. Now he's miserable and it's been something like four years; his mother's been gone a year. He's suffered significant losses, yet felt such responsibility to this stalkerish woman, whom he cannot please. Now he feels like he's had enough and I commented that the holidays make it tough. He said it would be January. I agreed, for me, although I probably said the same thing last year. In my case, when it's good, it's good, but I never know what's lurking. And then it's bad.

I always seem to manage on my own. Deprived and depraved, I muddle through. I am not stronger or happier. I am just surviving, but it's getting to me.