Why I Don’t Mind Living at Home

A case could be made for the ridiculousness of my ending up back with my family, but honestly, I don’t give a shit. In order to not lose all grips with reality, I need to EMBRACE the situation, value it and accept the benefits. Is this my ideal? Hell to the no, but my energy is better spent not thinking of myself as a loser. So these are the pros.

-BILLS. Now I am fully capable of getting any and all utilities hooked up and paid for, but living here is liking living with WIZARDS! I don’t need to know how much anything costs. I don’t need to juggle and panic and do without. I have cable, netflix, wifi, central air, dish washer, washer and dryer and the electric, water or heat NEVER get turned off. EVER.

-PETS. My cat can live with me. In this day and age a lot of people won’t rent to pet owners. That’s speciesism bullshit and I don’t give my money to bigots. In the process, I also get to live with 3 dogs that are pretty much family members. 45% of the time, I loathe their existence and need for care, but the other 55% I get to be entertained and loved on the condition I have food. Which brings us to…

-FOOD. Again, WIZARDS. I do a good chunk of the shopping because I don’t want to get rickets or die from scurvy, but these wizards LOVE cake! And ice cream. And ribeyes. Nobody knows their way around a grill better than my brother and I eat the shit out of that “Home Court Advantage.” I’m never hungry. There’s always staples, spices, treats and any appliance your heart desires to heat and eat with.

-SAFETY. I’m not so sure how well my dad or brother would fare in hand to hand combat, but they are men. Men love weapons and can quickly locate or MacGuyver something if it ever went down. And we have pretty good locks, double locks and an early detection system provided by the dogs. I also live in a very low crime area full of nosy white people whom have probably all seen my naked self through a window once or twice. We’re good here.

-COMPANIONSHIP. Sadly, I am not a solitary creature. Yes I love my privacy and alone time, but not as a state of being. After the novelty of having my Independent Lady Girl House wears off, I get sad. I isolate myself even more OR fall into relationships with an exchange I can no longer afford emotionally. Do my parents make me insane? Hell to the yes. But they’re not going to be here forever. I also get to spend more time with my niece than if I was off somewhere else. I think America is a throw away society. There are plenty of cultures that maintain multi-generational households and function just fine. Even well. I’m getting an opportunity to mend some of the “shit” with my parents and I’ve been a support, in many ways, for my parents individually and collectively. They’re also getting a chance to treasure some of the things they hoped I’d end up being in adulthood: kind, giving, funny, a good conversationalist, and friend.

Living “at home” isn’t something I go tell on the mountain, but I’m not ashamed. I’m more ashamed of the time I threw away living with people I had no business doing so and missing out on things that were important to family. I’m more ashamed of the time I watched swirl down life’s toilet because I was sad or lonely or afraid and didn’t speak up. I don’t think this transition means I’ve failed. I don’t think it means my parents failed. I think it means we succeeded in maintaining a relationship where this is a workable option. I just could never wrap my head around people whose family turned their backs on them or vice versa. And I’m fortunate and grateful that I can only sympathize. I’m grateful for my family and that I know now that they’re grateful for me.

Harrowed Heroine

Something that I’ve learned in life is that very few people care about a struggle that doesn’t end in success or failure. Struggle is not meant to be a chronic condition. Struggle is there to end up somewhere. Whether you become the King of the World or the Princess of the Pieces of Shit. Struggle should not be a lifestyle.

Success is a tenuous line. It can be considered a success by  you or by the world. That is up to you. Who are you? Do you need an audience? Or do you just want to sleep peacefully at night? Or do you want both? I can’t answer that. Neither can your mom who didn’t hug you enough or the boyfriend who refuses to stop treating you like shit. YOU CAN.

Failure has merit that people often neglect to credit. Failure holds a lesson. There can be honor in death and falling flat on your face. There can be greater lessons from failure than success. Failure will make you stop, regroup, rethink, regress, start over, go another way. Failure will make you succeed. At worst, failure shows us “what NOT to do.”

A few years ago I decided to stop portraying myself as part of the struggle. I still have my struggle. I still need my struggle. I embrace my struggle. I offer my tales of adversity to those WHO ASK FOR THEM. But, I no longer identify myself as part of the problem. I am part of the solution. This is MY struggle. MY time. My LIFE. I will never refuse to share my lessons with a person in pain or in their own struggle. I’ve just learned that my lessons are a means to an end. I don’t want to BE them. I don’t want your pity. I will not pity you. But I will understand. And I will give you the map I used if you need it. I will use yours if I need it. But I will not give in to the struggle until I succeed. Or fail.

Things I’ve Learned From Chewbacca

-Don’t let anyone cry. If they do, woof at their face til they laugh.
-Cats & dogs can be friends. If you protect the cat & wag your tail, he’ll let you sniff his butt. Then you can watch the sunrise together.
– Little kids will jump on you. Be nice to them, they always have snacks.
-Use your age to your advantage. When you’re a puppy & when you’re an old man, they’ll just laugh if you eat off their plate or climb on the couch.
-Spend a lot of time with nature. Birds are better than TV & you never know when you might see that standard poodle you hate.
-Have a big comfortable bed. Or lay on 3 small ones at the same time.
– Sometimes it’s okay to eat a whole cake or a whole briskett. If you can get it off the counter & choke it down before somebody sees you.
-When you get out of your yard, run with reckless abandon.
-Ultimately, nobody likes their face licked because it’s gross. But if you only do it like every 3 years, it becomes “special.”
-Protect your home & family.
– Sometimes all people need is something soft, kind & constant. Be gentle with your people.
-Dogs totally know English.

SWF ISO SELF

I’ve been thinking about the whole ordeal of dating lately. Where I think I fit into it. If I miss it. If I don’t. Why I’d want it. Why I wouldn’t. What I’d look for. What I’d pass up. Mistakes of the past. The valuable memories. And lessons. The whole schebang. I’m not romanticizing it, nor am I beating it to death like a well deserving  jaded bitch. Thoughts. Just thoughts.

 

The thing I realized today, is I miss being a girlfriend. I have this emotional energy that has level backed up recently. Maybe in a new way. A way that’s pretty foreign and far from where I was when I cut myself off from that experience. There’s no way I can possibly defend myself as being “Best Girlfriend Ever” up until this point, so I won’t. But I miss considering somebody. I miss doing little things. I miss understanding. I miss being a confidante. I miss being the girl your mom tells to take care of you. The girl she sometimes tells deserves better than her son can do right now. I miss making your lunch. I miss “tucking you in at night.” I miss being alone knowing you’re doing the stuff you do alone so you can tell me later on. I miss playing you a song I just found that you’ll love. I miss making you dinner. I miss seeing you ripped to shreds from stress and the evils of the world and being able to be that small with me. I miss being quiet when you’re that way too, just glad my presence is a comfort.

 

I have a track record of attracting and picking people with amazing potential. Because that’s all I was, potential. I picked people who needed fixing or to fix. I attracted the guys who I knew would let me be a mess. This wasn’t the case every time, but it was very close at best. So I’m not exactly sure what I want to be on the receiving end of. I think having a laundry list of expectations may just close me off from the most amazing thing that could ever happen to me. It’s one of those situations where I’ve learned, the hard way, what I DO NOT want. And that list is reasonable. If I continue to ignore life’s lessons, my life loses it’s meaning. So I guess the thing I do want, is to be seen. To be valid. To be considered. That’s what the person I love always gets from me, because they’re important to me. I just needed some time to become important to myself.