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cheer up, buttercup
At about 6AM my husband goes to take a shower. One of the psycho showers brought on by "bugs". The night after his appointment, where he was told for a third time by a doctor that he is not infested with bugs, he wakes up swearing that bugs are dying all over him. I asked him what was wrong and he says "Nothing, I'm just crazy."
I honestly don't know what to do. They offered to make an appointment with either a neurologist or a psychiatrist for him, but of course he's “fine”. I'm buying a brand new washing machine, hoping this will help with his piece of mind. I am trying to help. I don't know what else to do.
I would so very much like to move on from this. To move to a place where we can do our arts, be left in peace. I'm not asking for much. My list of expectations gets smaller every month. I've given up on pretty much everything I've ever wanted for myself, because it's all impossible, or I have changed my mind. Mostly I have had to change my mind because I realize it's impossible.
I've given up on a whole hell of a lot, but I don't want to have to give up on this relationship. Deep down, at my core, I still think that the most important thing in this life is to love and be loved. Not just in a generic romantic sexual way, but on the most basic human level. What else matters in this life but compassion and caring and helping each other and elevating each other so we can evolve?
As I write this and see it in print before my eyes, I see those deeply ingrained flower child ideals my parents gave me. My therapist told me recently that my parents “named me right”. And it's not the first time I've heard that from someone. Most of the time I feel like a giant asshole. Most of the time I feel like a total sap. A loser. Idiot. Moron. Fool.
Life could be really simple and really great for everyone, but it's not. All the philosophical debates about suffering and basis of human nature just seem hollow. Just be nice.
“All I thought I wanted was a front door/ All I thought I wanted was a place in the country/ Now I realize I want so much more/ Some I love, but you I adore...”
Those Adam Ant lyrics go through my mind a lot. They don't really mean much, but it's relevant to me. I got this house under the illusion that we could have a little slice of the American dream. Not much. Just some crumbs. I planted a willow in the front yard, something I wanted since I was a little girl, and my mom always told me I couldn't do, because the 'roots will reach out and ruin your sewer system'. Now I think maybe she was right, but not in a literal sense. I planted roots where I shouldn't have, and it's destroyed the basic workings of my life.
I had a little urban forest with beautiful flowers and a big garden and tons of space an an art studio and animal friends and a husband and friends and health and clean water and sunny skies and little by little it all got taken away and what is left has disintegrated into particles of shit.
Everything has been taken away from me. Taken. Yes, taken. I didn't give it away. I've fought for everything and it gets taken.
Most of my friends are dead, or are the walking dead. It's always grey skies. You can't drink the water. The plants have all been killed by overspray, including my trees. The animals have been killed and left to rot. The house is falling apart. The jobs are gone. The inspiration is gone. The health is gone. I've got one thing left. And that's shit too.
10:46 PM - Thursday, Jan. 30, 2020
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