I remember going to the airport to pick up my grandparents. It was exciting. To try to catch glimpses of them in the tiny airplane windows. And then… finally they would emerge and make that slow walk through the glass hall. And suddenly we were in their arms.

As I grew up and took occasional trips I had the joy of being that person off the plane. Finding my people at the other end. Being enveloped in arms.

I even went to meet a bunch of gaming friends many years ago. I only knew them from playing Everquest and World of Warcraft online for many… many. Ummmm. While lots of hours. My crew knew I was nervous and in a surprise they met me with signs and warmth and love.

Even in the last years of our dying marriage DH always took me and picked me up from the airport.

Today no one is And I didn’t know it would bother me… but it does. Almost makes coming home feel empty. One of my housemates had offered to take and pick me up but I didn’t want to bother her. Truely. I mean… big deal. I can simply park and ride. So I did. And now I come home to no hugs. No arms. No warmth Even in this age when the arms would have to greet me after baggage pick up… there will be me, myself and I. Riding to the car.

Guess this is just another thing to get used to. Another new normal.

Edit: wow hit me harder than I could have predicted. I cried the entire last hour of the flight. Sheesh woman. Get off the plane and in with your life!

Let me Start by saying… I’m drunk

But frankly…. that’s when I’m at my most honest.

This week has been hard on my ego.

I know, that for me, I look good.

But I also know that for most… I don’t.

My week was spent with my gals. Couple of my oldest friends. They are beautiful women. Very attractive women.

I’m practically invisible when I’m with them.

That’s how this week has been. In my happiness at my weight loss I totally forgot how horrid invisible can feel.

I didn’t come down to Myrtle for a random hook up. But I didn’t expect to be invisible. Because I’m spoiled.

Back home there are ppl who know and like me… as I am. Not so much here.

Overheard a few derogatory comments. I tried to brush them off.

That was harsh.

But not untrue.

There is a young man at home who seems to find me attractive (see previous posts re:15). There are a couple other men who have been actively pursuing me. Not successfully…. but I’ll admit the attention feels nice

Well reality popped in and gave me a good pop on the head.

It hurts. I’ll admit it.

Makes me feel a bit like. Ya know. Pointless.

I’m not tho… I must keep telling myself this. I’m not pointless.

It’s ok … as I said in the past … I’ll push thru.

EDIT: and apparently, when drunk, can be at my most moribund. It is a lovely morning. And the day will be beautiful.

I love Myrtle Beach. I think plot is partly because I’m only down here every few years. I don’t get used to it.

The girls and I come down for Bike Week. The bikes are nice and I live getting rides. But the attraction, for me, is the sun and sand.

When I come down here I feel lovely. Empowered. Even sexy. Now do not get me wrong. I am NOT surrounded by a bevy of men. That’s my girls. They are always gathering men. I am the one holding their hair or driving the car. But I don’t care one whit.

I get home, though, and I go back to feeling a bit… less. I would like to take this confidence back home. And would like it to last. I’m not sure how to do that. But I’m gonna give it a shot.

Headed to Myrtle Beach tomorrow. Have been looking forward to this for months. Still looking forward to it. But I feel oddly anxious too.

It’s not the flying. I hate to fly. But I premedicate with like… 3 double whiskey. So that’s ok.

I’m fairly sure it’s just my brain again.

And so I’ll power thru this.

I’m not sure why but my daily anxiety is getting worse again. It’s frustrating.

I’ll plow thru.

Ever wonder what would happen if you just disappeared? No. I’m not going to. I’m too fukking responsible. I wouldn’t be able to be so narcissistic to do that. That’s what it would be.

It’s more a fantasy. Dream. All unattainable. Unreasonable.

But ever wonder?

I do. I wonder. I wonder if I could become a different person. And if I could. Who would I become? What would I do?

I’m not interested to know if I would be missed. I would. For a bit. By some. But disappearing thoughts is not about that. It’s not about who is left behind. For me. Hence … narcissistic. I’m self absorbed and often thoughtless. But not to that degree.

Back to the thought. Would I move to a warmer climate? I’d like to think so. Would I do something better with my life? While I’d like to think so. I doubt it.

I know if I ever did something like that it would be selfish… horrid. And so starting over in that way would likely lead me to a terrible life. More thoughtless and sad…than new and fresh.

I imagine I would wallow. And do stuff that just reinforces my own negative feelings. After all…this is what I still do in my life anyway. And I’m trying to change that. And it’s so dam difficult.

And disappearing would solve nothing. I would never become the person I wish to be.

And I want to be a good…whole person. A person others may wish to know. Who helps… not hinders. Who can lift someone up and not think about herself.

And so here I stay. Fantasy voiced and realistically debunked.

But every once in a while… I think about it.

So easy to lie on social media.

I’m speaking of myself. Not others. Ohhhh. I’m CERTAIN others lie to me. 100%.

I’m only concerned with my lies

“I’m fine … as always.”

“No. I do nor need company. I’m all I ever need”.

“Having the time of my life”

Yup. These lies come easy.

And inside whatevah

I can’t bring myself to be vulnerable. I’m so NOT gonna be that girl… woman… old lady? I don’t know.

I talk to you. Knowing you are out there. Mostly anonymous. You know. But you can’t comfort me and … in that … there is safety

Monday yet?

I’m on vacation. And yet my mind turns to work, while I sleep, to fuk with me.

I woke up, at least ever hour and a half, in a straight up panic due to a recurring dream.

In my dream one of my friends has atrial fibrillation. And they wanted my advice. This is what I do after all. First thing I told them about was anticoagulation. And they refused.

And I’m positive they are gonna have a stroke.

And in my dream … I can’t tell you which friend this is.

And I was sent into a right-royal panic!

And I couldn’t stop having this dream!

Over and over!!!!

I don’t even know if any of my friends really does have Afib! It’s all in my head!!!

I’m on VACATION!!!! And stress and work are still fukking with me!

This weekend better end soon… and it’s only Saturday morning.

I am nutZ!

And it is Friday. And those Mothers Day memes are a-flying.

And it is really harsh-ing my buzz.

I’m an adult.

And I knew this was gonna suck.

And I’m an adult.

And it really shouldn’t be a big deal.

And there are more important things in Life… in the world. Shootings. Poverty. Wars. Prince and David Bowie are still dead.

And I’m an adult.

And this Hallmark Holiday is still breaking little pieces of my soul apart… grinding it under the heel of guilt and sadness … spitting it out by the side of a deserted road.

Yes. I’m pathetically whining.

But it doesn’t mean I don’t feel this shit.

And as an adult I still can’t seem to just fukking not care.

So, as you may (or may not) remember…I am NOT on the best terms with my mom. Have not spoken with her since right before Thanksgiving 2018.  Have no intention of doing so.  Every once in a while I think “Maybe I should contact her? it would make her so happy… And I can handle the abuse.  I can handle the mind games.”  And then I remember… I CAN NOT handle these things and that her abuse and mind games are horrible things and make me feel like shit.

So … Mother’s Day is Sunday.  Everyone keeps posting about “if you love your mom”
“you won’t have another mom”  all that really sappy and lovely stuff that is TRUE and REAL if you have … a non-abusive, non-narcissistic, non-horrid mother.

I don’t look forward to Sunday.  My housemate lost both her mom and dad last summer.  She isn’t looking forward to it either.  But in a weird way I find it hard to be supportive for her.  NOT because I am a total bitch but because I envy her what she had.  And I mourn over the loss of my mother…and the loss of the mom that could have been if she had tried.  the loss of the mom I thought I could have had if I had been different…tried harder.

I don’t look forward to Sunday.  I will get thru it.  Not quite sure how.  But I will.  I hate Mother’s Day

**Edit**

A good friend of mine posted on Facebook about difficult holidays (like Mother’s day) I read her post after I did my blog for the day.  She echoed a lot of what I said though she said it with a bit more eloquence.  But she did bring up a good point.  At the very least, my mother did bring me into this world and for that I am thankful.  I don’t hate my mother.  I feel profound sorrow and guilt but not hate.  After my many years on this planet and my constant journey to try (with some success and with some failures) to be a better person… I don’t see how my feelings on the subject will change.  I know that there is no resolution to any of this mess.  If I contact my mom I will be drawn into the whole rig-a-ma-roll again…and I cannot risk that.  So: Thank you Mom for having me.  You did do a good job often.  I’m sorry

I had an opportunity to be thoughtful and kind last night.  Supportive.  Instead I chose humor.

Oh, I could rationalize this choice … easily.  But I know better.  I chose humor because I second guessed my thoughts and feelings.  I second guessed how my friend would react.

I allowed my brain to take over.

Now this morning, actually… all freaking night … I composed a txt apologizing.  And with grace I was told my reaction was a good one because it lightened the mood.  I won’t disagree with that.  I am sure it did. And I am equally certain that IS what was also needed.  It is highly likely I would have eventually gotten to humor anyway.  To lightened the mood and make my friend laugh.  I am disappointed because I STARTED there.  Not to make someone feel better but because I was afraid and my self-preservation instinct kicked in.

STOP thinking!  React/Act kindly and supportive. Humor is fine but compassion comes first.